


Madness Reigns King Here

by InugamiMochi



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, Depraved V, Dubious Consent, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Graphic Description, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader is the Lamb, Reader is the prey, Self-Insert, Shameless Smut, Stalker V, Twisted V, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2020-08-10 07:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 92,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20131258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InugamiMochi/pseuds/InugamiMochi
Summary: V is a Beast.  Feral.  Unhinged.  Dreadfully Hungry.  An unfortunate encounter has put you in his sights and his interest was snagged.  Now you'll have to battle with this twisted man's fixation on you along with the unraveling plans of your dubious employer...all the while trying to keep your sanity intact in the process.You sweet, precious thing.  Are you going to be able to survive all this?Twisted/Obsessive/Stalker V x Reader that's in over her head*Under Editing for better flow**Full Summary and Warnings inside.  Spoilers.  Read at your own risk!*





	1. Author's WARNINGS

Title: Madness Reigns King Here

Summary: AU (Non canon compliant) Ignores that V is dying after split from Vergil. He only needs to just continue to feed that emptiness of his soul with magic from whatever source he can get his hands on, and his familiars are just that, summons for him to use. No quippy Griffon, they are just magic constructs for him to do battle with. The question now is: if possessing only half a soul drives him insane, what does that do to a man that quests for a permanent way to fill that void? Why - Possession of the only living being alive that seems to calm the madness in him, is the answer he settles on. 

Twisted/Obsessive/Stalker V x Reader that's in over her head *Several Dark and Filthy tags including sex applies*

A/n – Please note – I do NOT condone any type of unhealthy relationships. Explicit consent is sexy. But this is a fic that will run in the opposite direction. And the end of the day, it is a work of fiction and my explorations into challenging my writing abilities.

This is a WARNING. I am not kidding, the tags on there are a mess of flashing red flags. If you are sensitive to anything of that nature or things that are dark in general, if you have even a remote bit of uneasiness going through with this story then I urge you to turn around now. The rest of you brave, depraved souls... Well I can only say one thing...

Enjoy the ride.


	2. The Gnawing Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all read my warnings.  
Remember - this is not a fluffy fic by any means. You have been warned.  
Please Enjoy~
> 
> **Edited 07.22.2020**

### The Gnawing Void

The Void howled.

It forced him to stop dead in his tracks. V nearly toppled to his knees as lightning hot agony spread like fire through his body, igniting his nerves in a torrent of pain. His fingers clenched around the engraved head of his cane, the metal felt blistering hot beneath his sweaty palm. His knuckles paled to white as his grip tightened while the moments stretched on unbearably. Grunts and harsh, labored pants, hissed angrily through his teeth.

How he _ detested _ this crippling feeling that paralyzed him. How he _ hated _the way it rooted him in place against his will, with no choice but to wait before he could move again. His muscles spasmed and locked intermittently. His knees wobbled but he refused to bow down to this humiliating and debilitating weakness. He imagined that he must be grinding his teeth to nubs as he impatiently waited for the pain to finally subside to a dull ache. His lips curled in distaste at the way he trembled slightly as he took a tentative step forward. Forcing his weakened body to regain it’s equilibrium and strength despite the protesting ache that lingered.

Step by step.

He prowled forward. The sluggishness faded with each heartbeat as he resumed his hunt. Lured by the faint, panicked sobs coming from ahead. Pitiful, high pitched mewls that borderlined hysteria, pierced noisily through the air. As he approached, V discerned that it was a woman crying pathetically for anyone to help her as a swarm of demons hounded and cornered her.

“Someone, anyone!” She shrieked as the demons chattered noisily, hungrily as they closed in. She trembled against a crumbling stone wall, “Please, I don’t want to die like this!” Her scrabbling fingers hurled a loose stone, catching one of the demons in the head and managing to only enrage it further.

V stretched out a hand, feeling his magic thrum and writhe beneath his skin as he beckoned to it. He tugged at the tendrils of power from deep within him. The tattoos inked in fantastical swirls on his skin glimmered brightly as they lifted off in shards to swirl menacingly to coalesce into an avian shape. A predator’s grin sharpened his teeth. “Looks like I made it just in time for the party.” He purred silkily, catching the attention of the demons as he slammed the point of his cane on the ground with a resounding clink. 

With a piercing cry, Griffon swept towards the demons, his talons extended, sharp and wicked to gouge the eyes of one unfortunate demon. The agonized screeching spurred V into action. 

He sprinted forward. 

Closer.

_ Closing in _ on his prey.

Blood and adrenaline flushed through his body. The thrill of the hunt thrummed deliciously through his veins. Surging heat and visceral pleasure made his blood sing. His cane flashed menacingly in the sunlight as he gleefully speared the point through the throat of the nearest demon. V groaned in pure satisfaction in the back of his throat, as he felt it slide smoothly through, splattering scalding blood all over him. He thrust a hand into its chest and curled his fingers around its still beating heart. The demon squealed and thrashed, unable to escape his iron hold. V’s eyes narrowed into pleased slits as he took a brief moment to savor the headiness of holding it’s pathetic life in his fingers. 

“Too easy.” He scoffed, crushing the organ into ash. Eyes glittering in cold amusement as the demon crumbled into dust, scattering in the wind. 

He barely broke a sweat.

The other demons hesitated in engaging him, the instinctive sense of self preservation clanging alarms in their heads. Wariness flooded through them at the sight of the deadlier predator that’s appeared in their midst. A mirthless smirk curled on his lips at the way they began to back away, shrinking in on themselves in apprehension. Deft fingers twirled his cane idly. A chilling laugh bubbled in his throat at their obvious fear. 

“My, my.” His lips twisted into a sneer, “What a bunch of eyesores. It’s high time I take out the trash.” His voice lowered into a growl of contempt as he gestured for his familiar to attack once more. Sleek and deadly, he skimmed after Griffon, cane slashing and slicing through the remaining demons before they could even squeal. The battle was over before he could even blink. Not even a challenge. He huffed irritably to himself as he flicked the blood and gore off his cane. 

Such a waste of his precious energy. 

The fact made him _ itch _terribly.

Why couldn’t there be more prey with enough magical essence he could siphon off to quiet the Void? The yawning abyss of the missing half of his soul was so demanding. So greedy. He tsk’d as the remnants of the other demons Griffon fried, swirled past him in plumes of ash and dust.

“What the hell are you?” The soft whimper of the woman drew his attention. 

He’d forgotten she was even there. 

A sharp, glittering pulse of pure need vibrated through him in response to the way her wide doe eyes stared up wetly at him. He smirked at the way her frail shoulders shook as she stood petrified, unable to tear her gaze away from the man prowling over to her. She looked desperate and frightened, no doubt wishing that the stone wall she was leaning against for support would swallow her up and take her away from this unfolding nightmare. 

Her expression scorched his senses. He inhaled in sharply. There was only one thing on his mind.

_ So hungry… _

The Void howled.

_ So unbearably hungry… _

The Void clawed and screeched from deep within the remnants of his very being. Clashing and at odds with his will to keep it from devouring what was left of his tattered soul.

“Well, well – what do we have here?” He purred maliciously, taking in the sight of the waifish woman. Hmm, she looked rather too lean for his tastes. All skin and bones. But, waste not want not. He couldn’t afford to be a picky eater and he needed something desperately to stave off the edge of his growing hunger.

He stalked close to her, reaching to grip her upper arm in a bruising hold. The girl was hiccupping and trembling violently at the sight of this feral man grinning cruelly down at her. Her screams froze in her throat, unable to manage more than a small, pitiful whimper. His dark emerald eyes glittered coldly down at her. An icy shiver of panic skittered down her spine. 

This was no man.

He had a demon’s visage.

“P-please…don’t…Please don’t hurt me…” She stammered.

V frowned. Her soft pleas grated on him. 

She was ruining the moment.

V clicked his tongue in annoyance. Lambs are meant to be docile, obedient, and ** _quiet_ ** **. ** He far preferred to enjoy his meal in peace, thank you very much. This lamb needed to be silenced. 

His cane clattered to the ground at his feet as his hands snapped up to curl tightly around that fragile, slender neck. He felt the rapid fluttering of her pulse beneath his fingertips as his thumbs experimentally pressed harder and harder into the soft, yielding flesh. Her hands clawed red stripes down his forearms, desperately trying to do anything to loosen his choke hold on her. V slammed her head into the wall to quiet her. Her strangled cries became nothing more than incoherent gurgles. Spittle gathered in the back of her throat as blood squeezed hotly into her cheeks, coloring them an ugly rosy bloom.

White hot desire surged in his veins.

_‘Just a little more...yes…’ _ He licked his lips predatorily in anticipation as her heartbeat slowed into sluggish thumps. _ ‘Almost there.’ _

Those long elegant fingers tightened. The girl struggled feebly and thrashed weakly against him. V’s eyes were hooded in pure male satisfaction as her heart beat wildly before tapering off. Her pulse quieted until it was no more than the barest flutters of a butterfly’s wings beating gently, softly in his grasp. The girl’s deep blue eyes glistened in tears even as they began to cloud over with blood from those delicate little orbital capillaries breaking. A tiny trickle of crimson mixed with the drool dripping from her lips, sliding past his hands and onto the ground.

V leaned in closer, sensing that her last moments were nearing, wanting to see the life extinguished from her eyes. Up close and personal. Her pitiful expression held plenty of fear. A little lamb knowing that she was going to the slaughter. Her last living memories will be of him, her executioner.

Delightful.

_Simply delightful. _

There was only a near silent shuddering gasp against his lips before her body stilled completely. He slowly eased himself to his knees, supporting her deadweight in his arms. “It’s time for you to go to sleep, little lamb.” He crooned darkly, reaching for his cane, so he could pierce her through the heart.

His body glowed violet as he channeled every last drop of her essence into himself through the cane. Feeling the Void temporarily brimming full and satiated for the time being. Even ordinary humans possessed a far greater amount of magical essence for him to consume than a low-ranked demon. There was something to be said about a human’s soul – wonderful little vessels filled with untapped power that gave them life. 

He chuckled as he straightened to his feet, bringing a thumb up to his lips, he flicked his tongue sensually at the drips of blood that clung to him. He made sure to lap his fingers clean, he had been raised to finish his meals completely after all.

The hunger quieted to a low rumble in the back of his awareness.

And now satiated for the time being, V could think clearly again.

V was a man on a mission, he had a very important quest to complete.

There were whispers of a particular rumor that greatly interested him. A little tale of a hidden, magical archive that lay buried deep beneath Fortuna castle. His intent was to raid it and research for a ritual that could provide him with a full soul. This demanding hunger, slash unbearable curse, that came from only possessing half a soul was driving him mad. 

He wanted it to _ stop _.

He wanted some peace and quiet so he could plan his revenge properly.

But no matter how much magic he consumed, it never seemed to slake. And it made his existence so terribly unsatisfying to always cater to that gnawing void. So to fix that, V surmised that a full soul should do the trick and give him back his full sanity.

Although one could argue that he had been mad to begin with and that there was no way to ever cure it, no matter what he did.

V could believe that too. After all, it was insanity that led his wretched incarnation to commit his latest atrocity. His lips curled into a sneer at the remembrance of Vergil’s desperate actions. Splitting himself into two halves with the Yamato. All this current nonsense with the Qliphoth was because Vergil broke from the tortures under Mundus’s thrall and foolishly believed that he could simply cast away his human tendencies and become a demon in order to seek revenge.

V had no respect and plenty of contempt for his incarnation. Vergil never quite understood that his survival instincts and intellect lay with the human half. If cultivated properly, it would have been his human half that would have made him into the perfect warrior. But no, the half demon chose wrongly to inhabit the demonic body formed from his Sparda heritage. And now that demon was only a mindless, one track minded beast. It knew only greed for power but had none of the faculties to sustain it.

Oh yes, V mentally snarked, there was plenty of madness to go around. If that wasn’t the prime example of insanity then V would eat all his familiars.

“And you shall reap what you sow, Vergil.” He mocked. Once V acquired his full soul, he will return to exterminate his incarnation. The eyesore of a pathetic, broken man who dared think he could throw him away like yesterday’s trash; V’s pride rankled deeply and demanded blood as repayment for this indignity he suffered. And now that V was fully formed with his own body, his own identity…

He will make Vergil regret his foolish actions of throwing the best part of himself away.

His sandals crunched over the gravel and dirt as he picked his way through the rubble and rocky terrain. Jagged spires jutted like broken teeth against the sky as he closed the distance between himself and the castle. It loomed like a snarling sentinel, half wild and feral, guarding what was left of its territory despite being abandoned and masterless. 

Clicking his tongue, V darted to hide behind a column when he heard the rattle of a motorbike slow to a stop by the main entrance. 

“So this is Fortuna Castle huh?” The speaker tsk’d in contempt, “And they want me to clean out this place, all by myself? Damn it, if I had known it’d be this big, I’d haggled for a bigger payout.” There was a decidedly feminine sigh of irritation and resignation, “Fuck, let’s just get this over with.”

V raised an eyebrow at the voice. He chanced a glimpse behind the pillar but saw only the doors closing with an ominous thud. Well, that was curious. What interest would a human girl have in the ruins of Fortuna Castle? After all, the city was near deserted. The chances of running into any survivors was slim to none. His eyes narrowed as he mulled over the sentences she uttered before entering the castle. It seems that she may be a Devil Hunter. 

He might have to actually be a little cautious, he hummed in amusement to himself. V put the matter of the new interloper from his mind and decided to find another entrance into the castle. No sense in drawing unwanted attention to himself. He wanted to remain undisturbed in his explorations, never mind that there was going to be another occupant wandering the halls – he doubted she would even make it very far in anyways.

She’ll likely be eaten and it would serve her right.

Who knows, V grinned darkly.

Maybe he’d get to be the one to eat her first.

It didn’t take long for him to find an alternate entrance inside, through a servant’s door off the side of the castle. He cleared the vines with a quick slash of his cane and warily creaked the door open. It led to a small living area which then brought him to a great but empty dining hall. A tongue dragged slowly across his lower lip as he surveyed his surroundings with a predator’s eyes. Dust had settled over what little furnishings remained in a heavy blanket. Everything that might have been of value had been stolen and carted off by desperate looters and what was left behind had been too heavy to steal.

He huffed. Yet little did the residents of Fortuna know, that the real treasure lay beneath the castle. Protected by layers and layers of traps and enchantments, and of course, demons. Not even the silly cult, the Order of the Sword managed to uncover the castle’s true secrets.

But V would.

The memory of Vergil’s explorations of the castle were dim but the strong impression that there was something here burned like a beacon in his mind. And that suspicion had been confirmed when an information broker ‘helpfully’ provided proof. His chest rumbled at the memory of a blathering fat little man who immediately gave up all his knowledge at the sight of V and his familiars. A coward looking to save his own hide at any cost. It sparked his contempt enough for V to simply just...end his miserable existence. And the blood spilt that pooled and splattered his feet had been quite satisfying.

The sharp clink of the metal of his cane on the tiled floors echoed in the cavernous halls as he explored. He cast his senses around, feeling the faint niggling of something tugging his attention down, far below the ground he stood on. He tried to probe further but growled in frustration when he couldn’t pinpoint where the hidden entrance to the lower levels of the castle was from his current location. It must be too far away then. He hated to waste his magic on such a trivial thing, but he was in haste.

Pointing his cane out, he summoned Griffon, “Go search the other half of the castle for the entrance to the archives and alert me if there is anything worth my interest. Do not disappoint me.” He explicitly commanded. 

V played a game of ‘hot and cold’ with his senses for the next hour. Methodically striking out each unlikely place and searching carefully in the rooms and halls where he thought he felt the pulse of old magic the strongest. He followed the lingering arcane trails, battling through the pesky low level demons that appeared sporadically until he reached an airy hall with a single alcove, half hidden by a fluttering, moth eaten curtain.

The thudding of footsteps approaching from a corner ahead interrupted his search. Someone was heading his way. He was in no mood to be caught, just yet. Seeing only one option, V darted into the alcove and pulled the curtain to hide the space completely. His nose wrinkled from the puffs of dust and dried moth wings that fluttered into his face as he did so. 

The footsteps echoed louder and much closer now.

V flattened himself against the wall, and waited in the shadows. 

Something told him that things were about to get rather interesting.

Good. 

He was just getting bored too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Edited 07.22.2020**
> 
> Until next time, Stay Safe Sweetlings ~


	3. I Think I’m Starting to Regret This Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm just a bit of background information for this chapter. The next one...well V is the one pulling the strings. Expect the unexpected

### I Think I’m Starting to Regret This Job

**Your POV----------Earlier **

**Rinngg! RNNNIINGGG!**

A cracked and dirty glass, sloshing with cheap bourbon stopped halfway to your lips. You raised an eyebrow as you squinted down at the blurry screen of your phone, watching in drunken amusement as it vibrated across the counter closer and closer to bump against your elbow. A pleasant buzz thrummed in your head, pulsing in time with the ringtone chiming from your phone. You were feeling nice and toasty, and in a rather good mood tonight for once.

You knocked back your shot. Picking up the phone on the fifth ring, you slurred a greeting.

“Yosh. Talk ta me.” A finger traced the rim of the empty glass. Where did the booze go? Thoughts circled hazily in your head. Your lips pursed as you tried to recall if the bartender had forgotten your drink or if you lost it somewhere. You couldn’t have drank it already did you? Ergh. Maybe you should stop with the booze for tonight since your memory was a bit shot.

On second thought.

Nah.

You weren’t drunk enough for that yet.

“____, long time no see. You still up to no good over in Enamel City? I bet you’re probably drunk on your ass right now, aren’t ya?”

Recognizing the caller, you sat up straighter, abruptly losing the majority of your buzz as your voice cleared of its previous drunkenness. Nothing like a call from someone in the business to snap you back to reality. Especially this particular caller. “Well, if it isn’t old man Morrison. Color me impressed, you’re still alive and kicking?”

A warm and hearty chuckle crackled through the speaker. “Of course, I’m a tough man to get rid of.”

Swiveling 180 degrees in your barstool, you leaned back on your elbows against the counter, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder. “Let’s cut to the chase old man, what’cha need?”

An eyebrow raised high when Morrison gave you the personal Code Red password you assigned to him. Ooh, now you were _plenty_ curious. Especially considering that the information broker hardly ever called you for a job. His turf was restricted to only Fortuna and Red Grave City. While they were _nice_ cities, personally, you preferred the gritty, seedy lifestyle in the neighboring Enamel City. Cross ups, rarely happened. His contacts at Devil May Cry usually were more than enough to keep things from going shitfaced. It must be pretty bad if Morrison had to call for a sword who worked outside of his sphere of influence.

You whistled lowly, “What about the Legendary Hunter?”

Glasses and beer bottles tinkled rather musically right next to you as bodies stinking of booze crashed into the counter, sending them shattering across the countertop. Two burly men scuffled, shoving each other back and forth drunkenly, caught up over some imagined slight no doubt. You hooked your feet beneath the rungs on the barstool and leaned as far back as you could, narrowly ducking a meaty elbow to the face. You idly brushed off sprinkles of broken glass off your lap.

A brief pause. “Dante’s a little tied up. I’m gonna need to ask you a favor. It’s a big job, you up for it?”

You swiveled back to flag down the bartender, motioning to a top shelf whiskey. “Big job huh?” You gulped down the shot the bartender pushed towards you, and slapped down some bills to cover your tab. “Alright then, let’s talk about my rates.”

Morrison gave a wheezy chuckle. No hesitation whatsoever. A true mercenary through and through, but he knew he could count on you in a pinch. “Well then, meet me at the usual place. I’ll get ya half up front and you’ll get the rest when you’re done.”

Click.

The drunken men from earlier rolled across the dirty floor, exchanging clumsy blows and unintelligible insults. Paying them no mind, you sidestepped them and walked out the bar, turning up the collar of your leather jacket to ward off the chill of the night. Fingers fished around your pockets for the keys to your rusty motorbike.

A three hours ride to Fortuna in the middle of the night.

Heh, how fucking romantic.

When you arrived at Restaurant Fredi, or rather the remains of what used to be a cozy little diner, the sun was already starting to color the sky with the coming dawn. You spotted Morrison leaning against the only wall that was left standing, dragging deeply on a cigarette. The bike skidded to a stop right in front of the old man. You cut the engine and kicked the stand out. He chuckled and wordlessly handed you a hefty envelope, well familiar with how you operated. You didn’t officially accept the job until the cold hard cash was in your hands first.

“You always knew that money is the fastest way to my heart old man.” You beamed at the large amount of bills stuffed inside before tucking it away into your jacket. “So, give me the details of the job.”

Morrison made a show of texting something to your phone. “There’s a nice little place up ahead. Fortuna Castle, you ever heard of it?”

“You mean that haunted tourist trap?” 

“Heh, I don’t know about the tourist trap part but it is haunted. Filled to the brim with creepy demons and shit, just like how you like ‘em.” His lips wrapped around a fresh cig as he dug around his pockets for his lighter.

“Sounds like my dream vacation.” You deadpanned, crossing your arms.

Fwoosh.

Morrison exhaled slowly, watching streams of smoke billowing from his lips, curling up into the sky. “I got a _princely_ client that needs a little extermination job done up in the castle. Gonna pay triple your usual fee. How’s that for a payout?” He grinned, seeing the mercenary gleam in your eyes. 

“Deal.”

Hook, line and sinker.

He nodded and tipped his hat to you, he’ll finish off his smoke and get back to the Devil May Cry office. “Stop by Dante’s when you’re done kiddo. Good luck.” He called out to your retreating back as you hopped back onto your bike. Morrison hoped that you didn’t run into that demon summoner the rumor mill had been grinding about the last few days. Lord knows, he can’t afford to keep losing strong Devil Hunters at this rate. Dante, Nero, Lady and Trish…he was going to be put out of business, and that just would not do. Definitely, not good business at all.

The map downloaded to your phone told you that the castle wasn’t that far off from the city. 

As you rode on, your thoughts turned to dissect the suspiciously lucrative offer. From your experience, nobles **hated** to pay the normal rate, preferring to lowball whenever they could. They were all the same – cheapskate assholes with only an interest in ripping people off whenever they could so they could keep padding their already fat coffers. So to have one that was going to pay you _triple_ for just cleaning house? 

Something was definitely up. 

The cold air whipping at your face and through your hair helped you sober up the rest of the way. Leaving your mind clearer as you mulled over what could be lurking in the castle that warranted a triple payout.

Various explanations rattled around in your brain. Each one less likely than the last.

“Still…can’t really be picky. I need the cash.” You had bills to pay…people to pay off. You didn’t fancy losing a few fingers because of the loan sharks hounding your ass. This job would more than cover your debt. With plenty left over for you to celebrate with.

“Oh shit!” You swerved into a tight right as some fleshy looking root exploded out of the ground. A long wicked looking needled tip attached at the end of the root narrowly missed skewering you as you sped off. What the fuck was that!? You fired a few shots at it, watching it retreat back into the ground in your mirrors. You tsk’d as you leaned low into the bike and gunned it.

“Close call.” You muttered.

The castle loomed ahead. A molding and crumbling structure in disrepair that yawned like an eyesore into the sky. The jagged roof and turrets stuck out like teeth. The grounds were overgrown and wild.

The bike growled to a stop. You propped it on its kickstand and took a good look at the castle. A grimace crossed your face. Fucking hell, this place was huge! Granted, a good chunk looked like it had collapsed in, but that still left quite a bit left to cover! “This is the place they want me to clean out by myself? Seriously? Man, I better get a bonus for taking this job.”

Tch. You reminded yourself about the triple payout. It became your mantra. The sooner you started, the sooner you can book it from this creepy place and get paid and be on your way back to Enamel City. As you stomped up the stairs to the front doors, an icy sense of dread churned in your stomach. A taste of bitter nausea made your throat close for a brief, suffocating moment, as if phantom fingers were crushing your windpipe. The sense of self-preservation that saved your hide in so many battles hissed at you - _something was fucking wrong here._

For a split second, you wondered if maybe you should just abandon this job and find something else. 

As if mocking you for being so gutless, the phone in your back pocket vibrated against your ass, making you jump in surprise. You rolled your eyes in exasperation at your own skittish behavior and checked it. Seriously, what was wrong with you? You weren’t a rookie anymore, hadn’t been for _years_. This was just like any other job. You were being paranoid for no reason.  
You conveniently ignored how unconvinced you were at that last thought. Huh, paranoid…_yeah right._

“…I knew it was too good to be true.” There was another text from Morrison, apparently the client wanted you to grab some baubles his missus left behind. Growling under your breath, you shoved the phone back in its place. Nobles, you sneered. Royal pain in the ass. Like this job wasn’t daunting enough, now you had to go play fetch.

Still, just to reassure yourself that everything was fine, you gave one last glance over your shoulder (you were definitely not paranoid!), letting your eyes skim around once before you shoved at the doors to enter the castle. As you walked in deeper, your mind suddenly - _appropriately_ \- recalled an old nursery rhyme. ‘Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly’. A frisson of unease skittered down your spine as you mouthed it to yourself. 

“I’m starting to regret taking this job already.” You muttered, pulling your gun from its holster and clicking the safety off. The alarms in your head would not quiet no matter what you did, but it was too late to back out now. You already accepted the mission, and you were bound to see it to the end…or to your end if it came to that. Your reputation as a Devil Hunter would tank and you’d be out of a job if it became known that you were no longer reliable enough to get the job done.

So you better go through with it.

Demons materialized as soon as you walked in.

To your immense relief, the strange, uncanny disquiet that settled into your bones ebbed a little from the heat and adrenaline rush of battle. This – this was familiar as breathing, as sleeping and eating to you. Longsword flashing and whirling, slicing through flesh and bone with ease, as if your enemies were no more than butter. The weight of a gun in your hand, the slight recoil that jarred your wrist as you rapidly pulled the trigger to finish off the demons that came your way. It established your role as the superior Hunter in this godforsaken place. At the top, no one could dominate you. Fear, paranoia, dread – you left those behind as you killed your way deeper into the castle.

If only you knew how foolish and wrong you were.

You were most definitely _not_ the most powerful Hunter roaming these halls.

Many battles later, you shucked off your jacket and tied it around your waist. Sweat dripped uncomfortably into the crevices of your body, making your clothes stick to your clammy skin. Egh, this castle was starting to get really stuffy the longer you stayed here. And you still had so much more ground to cover. 

You flipped out your phone to check your progress. 

Main Foyer – check.

Servant’s quarters – check.

Armory – check.

Audience chamber – check.

Fingers tapped at the screen, trying to scroll around for an idea of what remained to explore. It appears that there was a Treasury somewhere on the first floor, you wondered if that was where the client wanted you to go to. But according to the map, you were already there. Grumbling, you checked but didn’t see anything that remotely looked like a Treasury.

“Freaking castles…the layout of this place is ridiculous.”

A few more steps forward. You paused, ignoring the gentle fluttering of a curtain as you triple checked your phone again. Two chittering demons barreled out of nowhere and rushed towards you. Both of them flanking you from opposite sides, trapping you in between. A hand automatically dropped to your hip to flick your longsword out of its sheathe and in a flash, the demons crumpled to the ground in meaty, bloody heaps. You swallowed down your gag reflex as the smell of entrails invaded your nose. Thank the gods you hadn’t eaten anything yet or else you’d be seeing the contents of your stomach right now. It took you a few more deep breaths and swallows before you got yourself back under control.

Eyes glanced back down the digital map again in irritation.

“Damn, I think I took a wrong turn...hmm?”

What…was that?

You stilled completely.

You could have sworn you picked up a near inaudible shuffle from behind you. Tightening your fist around the hilt of your sword, you slowly pivoted in place. The fine hairs on the back of your arms and neck prickled. Goosebumps pimpled all over your skin. And you weren’t sure if you were imagining it, but it suddenly felt colder. An ominous chill gripped your heart. An eerie hush settled over the area. You could feel the blood thundering through your veins, but everything sounded strangely muffled to you. As if your ears were stuffed full with cotton.

“Is someone there?” You knew there was. Every instinct you had screamed at you that there was. 

Something dangerous lurked nearby.

_Something hungry._

Your breathing came in harsher huffs as you waited, ears straining hard for anything to confirm your suspicions. Every muscle in your body tensed, you were coiled and ready to attack at a moment’s notice. But as more minutes crawled excruciatingly by…

Nothing.

… …

Silence.

_Unnatural_. Silence.

Your shoulders finally sagged, the lactic acid buildup from winding your body so tight, burned sharply. Forcing you to give up your defensive stance. “This place is fucking creepy.” You reaffirmed, sheathing your sword. Shivering a little, you rubbed at your arms for warmth and headed back the way you came.

You swore under your breath as you hurried on.

Someone…something was watching you. 

That taint of anxiety soured on your tongue, niggled the back of your mind. Paranoia began to creep into your thoughts.

It had been a stretch of five long years since you became a Devil Hunter. Five long years since you first tasted that bitter tang of fear.

Five years until now…

You swallowed thickly as your eyes flicked continuously over your shoulder and around. Trying to gauge every flickering shadow, every crevice – trying to divine what was tracking you like prey. Every nerve ending remained on high alert. Faint tremors raced through your body, your fingers trembling as you weakly gripped the hilt of your sword for a meager measure of comfort.

You were by no means a pushover. But this chill…

It was as if…unseen fingers lightly crawled down the back of your neck, tracing down the curve of your spine before walking back up to repeat the sensations over again. You shook your head hard, you did NOT just hear a raspy chuckle in your ear. _You were imagining it._

There was nothing there.

You smothered a shriek as you caught a flash of shimmering blue from the corner of your eye. Your finger was trigger happy, you wasted an entire chamber of bullets into an empty sitting room. Although just for good measure, you loaded up your gun and fired off another round into the room.

Just in case.

Chest heaving a little, you glanced in and slowly backed out when the coast was clear. Keeping your cocked gun crossed over your sword, you slowly advanced through the rest of the castle.

All the while wishing that you were anywhere else but here.

**V’s POV---------- **

A sharp smile, glinting like a knife.

Eyes gleamed coldly beneath dark lashes.

Pupils blown wide in dark amusement.

He tracked his little lost lamb throughout the castle. Keeping well-hidden as he prowled after her from a healthy distance. He silently applauded her instincts, she nearly caught him twice now. And once, a lucky bullet grazed a hot line across his shoulder. Even his irritation at having to waste magic to heal himself didn’t overcome the thrill and lust curling, searing in his belly.

Just watching his little lamb skillfully battle against the demons that roamed the castle made his body scorch. Bloodlust raged in his veins. His teeth sharpened. Perspiration collected on his upper lip as his eyes tracked her every movement. She danced nimbly around the demons, carefully assessing the flow of battle before she struck. Always going in for the kill. V ventured to call her style, efficient, and ruthless. 

He was fascinated.

It appears that his little lost lamb became a tigress when the battle song raged in her veins.

How utterly _alluring._

Something about the intensity in her sweet face made him _look closely_. Or rather, it made a certain part of his anatomy stand to an aching, throbbing attention.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as she paused to consult her map yet again; still casting those nervous glances about as she hunched her shoulders in defensively. Once again, that faint fragrance of honeysuckle trailed after her, tantalizing his senses. But now, her scent was deliciously spiced with _fear_ and battle adrenaline.

Intoxicating.

Right in that moment, he wanted to simply reach out for her and bury his nose into her, forever breathing in that enticing aroma. His teeth bit lightly down on the tip of his tongue as his cock twitched at the thought of how delicious her scent would become if spiked with arousal in combination with intense terror. He stifled a salacious groan as the leather of his trousers strained from barely containing his hardened cock. The slight friction had blood rapidly rushing down from his head, leaving him giddy and lightheaded. He internally chuckled. Best to put away those thoughts for now. Plenty of time to indulge those desires a bit later, once she was well and truly ensnared.

V slyly watched as she tried to track down Griffon down another hallway; whom he sent to distract and lead her around in circles. Running his delectable, skittish morsel ragged. Keeping her nerves too high strung and frayed for her to think properly. Forcing her to be too preoccupied to notice the real danger that lurked in her shadow. 

V couldn’t resist the lure of playing with his lamb a little longer.

Poor little lost lamb.

Doing her best to stay one step ahead of the wolf that hungered after her.

Toying with her.

V grinned ferally as he turned to wander off in the opposite direction. Griffon will keep her busy and out of his way for the time being. He planned to replenish his reserves and quiet that incessant Hunger before crossing paths with her. And he still needed to find that thrice damned entrance to the lower levels of the castle. 

Hmm…

The plan swirling in his thoughts solidified bit by bit.

_Yess…_

It would be utterly perfect.

He wouldn’t devour her just yet. His lamb could prove to be quite useful.

V idly rolled his cane in his hands, turning around the corner and catching the attention of a lone demon. He gracefully dodged the clumsy attacks, stepping past its guard. A gloved hand reached out to catch it by its throat. A triumphant smirk flashed across his lips as he thrusted his cane through its heart, absorbing every single drop of magical essence it had.

Flames of desire licked across his nerves as he recalled how enchanting it had been to watch her at work. The image of her swirling in his brain – the heat and ferocity in the lines of her attacks created a much different need skittering down his spine.

He will use her skills to assist him in finding the archives, and when she outlived her usefulness. 

Well…

A sinful grin stretched his lips.

His thoughts wandered down a darker path. When V acquired what he needed. He will indulge himself by feasting on her – in **every sense of the word** until he was well satiated like the worst of gluttons. V closed his eyes briefly, imagining her soft, pliant skin flushing for him. Beneath him. He brought a hand to his lips, lightly nipping the fingers as he wondered how she would taste on his tongue. A deep masculine chuckle rumbled as his mind began to list the many, many filthy things he wanted to do to her.

V spotted a study up ahead and strode in to set the scene. He pulled out his collection of William Blake from the confines of his vest and casually leaned against the heavy desk in the middle of the room. It would be quite an exercise of his control, to reign in the urges bubbling within him. 

But the rewards will be well worth it.

He silently commanded Griffon to bring his lamb to him.

Booted footsteps echoed closer and closer to him.

_Yes my little lamb. Come to me._

The door creaked open and he lifted his eyes to see her startled gaze.

In a smooth and cultured tone he addressed her silkily. 

“Why, _hello there._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're not a wilting flower, you need to be much more than that to keep him on his toes and interested enough to not just outright kill you. Survive dear sweetling, because the alternative is far worse.


	4. The Mysterious V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack for this chapter – the tone of this track, it was just too fitting. But I also scared the crap out of myself by looping this over and over. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BQw3qZ9H8A - [Final Fantasy 8 – Succession of Witches]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, unless it makes sense. I’ll combine the two POV and stay in 3rd person. For the sake of my sanity lol, I don’t think I can handle going back and forth and rewriting the scenes from both POV. And I doubt you sweet readers really want to re-read everything twice. 
> 
> Now then, let’s continue shall we?

### The Mysterious V

___ followed the strange avian demon into a study. Her eyes widening in surprise when it burst into a mist of black that swirled into the slender man reclining nonchalantly against a desk. That demon…belonged to him this whole time?

Her mind pulled up a bit of trivia and she latched on to it for some sense of normalcy after the eerie shenanigans that had been happening all day. Demon summoners were incredibly rare. While in the realm of possibility, demonic familiars were notoriously difficult to contract with, given that demons in general rankled at being under the command of a mere human. The handful few that she met over the years had contracts with demons that were inherited. And Dante was the only Hunter that you knew of that possessed Devil Arms, demons who _willingly_ lent him their powers as a measure of respect for his strength.

Which category did this man fall under?

The question died on her lips as his eyes lifted to hers and in the most sinful purr, he greeted her in a honeyed, pleasant voice.

“Why, _hello there._” 

Her breath hitched. A curl of fear and desire shot through her like lightning, rooting her in place for his perusal as she tried unsuccessfully to get herself together.

V felt the gnawing Hunger flare through his veins as she hesitated, warily watching him from the doorway. Her shoulders pulled back, readying herself to run if needed. He raked his scalding gaze up and down, savoring the appearance of his lamb. The poor thing was slightly disheveled, probably from all the battles she must have engaged in while chasing after Griffon. A faint sheen of sweat made her skin sparkle in the light. Her hair was pulled up, but several stray strands were plastered to the back of her neck rather enticingly. It drew his hungry gaze. Oh, he wanted to lick long languid stripes up and down that vulnerable neck. To sink his teeth into stinging kisses all over the yielding flesh and leave blooms of bruises all over that fluttering jugular.

Her eyes were wide and so foolishly expressive. He huffed to himself in amusement. It made her look so innocent. V found himself fascinated by the stray thought of how this slip of a girl fell into the business of a Devil Hunter. There was a survivor’s hardness in the way she stanced herself so defensively. He had already seen for himself that she was no stranger to battle and hard training. But something else swirled beneath the steel of her body. A vulnerability that made his mouth water instinctively. At the end of the day, claws and all…she was still just _prey_. Something to be devoured and picked clean. Something to gorge himself on like a greedy glutton.

In fact, he wanted to unwrap everything he could about her. Part her wide open and slink himself inside, deep, deep inside her until he _usurped_ her entire existence. He wanted to bury himself in so deep beyond the point to where she could no longer separate herself from his grasp.

_…My sweet little lamb…_

The urge to simply tear into her, _NOW_ was overwhelming. The hungry longing to rip into her soft, sweet smelling flesh with his teeth and bathe in her hot, heady blood as he drained her of her magic warred with the desire to split her in two with his cock and have her crying his name in submission over and over. Heh. Now, now – he reminded himself playfully. Good things come to those that are patient. And V WILL be patient and resist the temptations that set him aflame.

Patience was a virtue after all.

And delayed gratification will make it all the sweeter.

V kept the neutral, pleasant smile plastered on his lips, leaving no outward sign of his internal struggle. His eyes could trace the cautious curiosity in her face, even as she bravely tried to hide the faint tremors that betrayed her fear.

He snapped his book shut, the sudden movement made her jump. He couldn’t fully hide the feral grin that curled on his lips as his eyes fixated on the rapidly fluttering pulse at her neck. He dragged his searing gaze down to the heaving of her chest. 

Poor little lamb, V didn’t mean to scare her. 

It wouldn’t do to give away the game so early after all…

Unfolding his lithe body, he smoothly stalked closer – feeling a primal satisfaction when she unconsciously stepped back. 

A prey always instinctively recognizes its predator.

“Another Hunter in Fortuna Castle? My, my – what a chance meeting.” He purred. Delighted when the tips of her ears flushed darkly as her eyes stayed locked on his. She had no idea did she – of how utterly precious she looked right now. Eyes slightly glazed over, breaths hitching as her mind tried to make sense of the man looming over her.

He was close – so close that he completely invaded her personal space. A pink tongue darted to lick her dry lips. V suppressed a growl, forcing himself to reign in the curl heat that threatened to spark straight to his cock. His nostrils flared instead as her hand moved to her sword. He couldn’t have that, now could he?

“Tsk –“ A tattooed hand reached to grip her hand, _gently_. “There’s no need to be so…hostile.” He drawled, a thumb lightly brushing the soft skin. Once. Twice. Her sweet scent now even stronger in their close proximity. “I’m quite harmless.” A curl of amusement lifted his lips – what a joke. V was the exact opposite.

He pulled back just slightly to give her a little breathing room. Allowing her a reprieve so she could compose herself. His eyes greedily watched as she swallowed thickly before uncurling her fingers from the hilt. She lightly tugged back possession of her hand, but still kept it close enough to her favored weapon. 

Just in case.

___ felt like she was being suffocated.

_Holy. Fuck. Who IS this man?_ ____ felt her heart stutter at the unholy beauty of this man. Her mind embarrassingly could only fixate on his appearance. She could feel the blood pulse unsteadily in her throat. A lightheadedness crept into her brain, making the room swirl a little strangely at the periphery of her sight.

Silky waves of raven black hair brushed against the turned collar of his leather vest. His eyes glittered green beneath his long lashes, but it was hard to determine the exact shade since the hues shifted so often for her to pinpoint properly. His facial features were aristocratic, but on him it was breathtaking – not anything like those nobles she was used to dealing with who looked more inbred as the generations passed. And damn, this man was _tall_ as he loomed over her, easily dwarfing her by at least a foot. Her eyes trailed to the rest of his physique on their own accord, tracing the whorls of the tattoos that circled round his neck and snaked down, down further beyond the glimpse of his abs and belly that peeked tantalizingly through the lapels of his opened vest. She caught a faint whiff of pure masculine virility and of a dark and rich earthiness from him. The closest description her intoxicated brain could conjure up was the imagery of a deep, dark bitter chocolate laced with something spicy and mysterious. God, she was hooked.

He reminded of her those beautifully, exquisite, decadent Bernini sculptures she passed by once, a long time ago in Fortuna before the city was ruined. Or perhaps, that voice of caution whispered, he was a fallen angel that has come to tempt her soul away to Hell. She couldn’t quite make up her mind on that. But she knew without a doubt, that this man terrified and _fascinated_ her. 

Unaware of the dark inspirations that lit the man’s imaginations as she did so, she licked her lips again as she tried to find her voice. “I didn’t know there was someone else on a job here. Sorry.” Oh god, why were her knees shaking so bad? ___ had faced death down so many times without so much as a flinch and yet this man spooked her to an alarming degree that made her want to turn tail and just run. Run away as fast as she could. She mentally shook herself, no wait – why was she overreacting like this? 

She was a Devil Hunter, one of the best. That was pure fact. Her reputation spoke for itself and she had no business quaking like this. If this man proved to be trouble, she HAD the skills to teach him a lesson. Inhaling as discreetly as she could, she muted the alarms in her head as much as she could and forced her hands to just rest _casually_ on her hips. One hand in particular, she kept extremely close to her hidden gun. It made her feel a little better.

“I’ve never seen you around before. What’s your agency?” She asked, face smoothing into more professional lines.

V wanted to chuckle at her attempts at taking back control of the situation. Perfect, he purred. He was keeping her unbalanced in this game. Keeping her guessing as to whether or not she could trust him. It would keep her from making rational decisions.

“Devil May Cry, of course.” V reigned in his urge to smirk as she visibly (foolishly) relaxed in recognition of the name. He was very well aware that the name of that agency opened many, many doors. After all, it was the agency of the Legendary Devil Hunter Dante. Any Hunter worth their salt knew about Dante.

And it was so fortunate that any Hunter worth their salt hardly bothered to verify anyone claiming to be from Devil May Cry. For once, Dante’s reputation was working in his favor.

“Oh…” She forced a shaky sigh of relief through her teeth. She had been overreacting then! The majority of the tenseness in her body melted away. ___ wanted to slap herself for being so silly. It was probably the creepy atmosphere of this castle that was getting to her and the late night drinking – causing her mind to play tricks on her. Seeing things that weren’t really there. Being paranoid for no reason. She should’ve been able to recognize that he was another Hunter in the business. It was so obvious now.

“It’s nice to meet another Hunter from these parts. Umm, I’m ____. And you’re…?” She stuck her hand out, head tilting cutely to the side.

His eyes closed to half-mast. “You can call me V. At your pleasure.” His deep voice was rich and husky as he reached to lift her hand to brush his lips against her knuckles in a display of courtly politeness.

___ felt a little embarrassed at her lack of manners at his graceful introduction.

Enamel City wasn’t really a place where you learned how to behave in polite society after all.

In fact, that little gesture made her suddenly, uncomfortably self-conscious of herself. ___ felt like a little girl again, losing that grasp of self-confidence on herself for just that moment. His hand opened to let her hand slide back to her side. Had she been imagining it or had his hand held hers just a little too long?

Tamping down the heat threatening to rise to her face, her lips twisted into a strained smile. “Ok. V.” She took a step back, “I’m probably in your way, I better – better get back to my own work.”

“Are you quite sure? You do not want any assistance?” He rumbled, peering through his lashes down at her in amusement at her ill-concealed attempt to gain more breathing room. _Going to try running little lamb? By all means, please do. I do so love a good hunt._

“Yeah – yeah.” She tripped over her words. “I got a lot of places to clear and some stuff to find for my client.”

“Well then, don’t let me keep you. Although, if you happen to find an entrance to the lower levels of the castle, do let me know will you?”

That perked her interest. She missed the sharp glitter of dark satisfaction flashing in the depths his eyes as he skillfully manipulated her. Now he had her attention. His little lamb was going to find the archives for him, with just a well-placed suggestion.

Lower levels? She wondered if maybe the Treasury was down there? She readily agreed, grateful to have gotten some sort of lead and with a strange reluctance turned her back to him. A skitter of apprehension quaked her spine - _Don’t turn your back fool!_

“Oh and ____?”

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

“Do be careful. I’ve heard of a rumor that there is a dangerous _demon_ around here. Best be on your guard.”

She felt icy fingers squeeze her heart to a stop at the ominous warning.

_Danger._ Her instincts insisted.

Shakily thanking him again, she disappeared out of his predatory gaze.

Completely missing the heat and self-satisfied smirk that curled his lips.

_Don’t disappoint me, little lamb._

V pulled out his book and settled into a dusty armchair. He would give her a little head start. He wanted her to ruminate on their first face to face encounter. V hoped that it was as memorable for her as it was for him. Crossing his legs, he felt his swollen, aching cock shift. And it would give him a little time to…indulge in a fantasy or two.

“My little lamb…” He crooned darkly. “Oh you have no idea what you do to me.”

**\---------- **

Her breaths came out in shuddering pants as soon as she felt she was a healthy distance away from the little study. She leaned against a wall and felt her legs give way, bonelessly slumping down to the blessedly chilly floor. She pressed a trembling, clammy hand to her forehead.

So feverish.

So hot and cold at the same time.

___ allowed herself a longer break than usual. Trying to patch all her shattered nerves back together. 

“Just breathe ____, in and out, in and out.” She coached herself, pulling her knees close to her chest and bowing her head. Hormones, she rationalized feebly. That must be it. She hadn’t taken a lover in years. Too busy trying to dodge her debt collectors and too paranoid to let her guard down long enough for an actual fuck. Add that to the sudden appearance of the most beautiful, sensual man she’s ever laid eyes on…of course it was normal to be so…discombobulated.

That’s right, she clung to that explanation despite the clamoring of warnings that sounded off in her head. There was such a thing as too paranoid. That line of thinking bordered on arrogance in thinking everyone was out to get her. And she knew damn well that she wasn’t on everyone’s hit list.

“Fucking get a grip ____.” She muttered, forcing herself back to her feet.

She still had a job to complete.

And V gave her a lead to investigate. Better get off her ass now so she didn’t have to stay in this godforsaken place any longer than necessary. She’ll feel much, much better once she got out of here. And then she can drink and laugh away the terror that kept stealing her breath away every moment she was in here.

Her phone chimed and she answered it. “Yeah?”

“Hey ____.” Morrison’s voice crackled through. Inexplicably, just hearing from someone outside the castle made her feel more at ease. It helped to push away the feeling that she was a mouse scurrying around in a maze with a hungry panther after her. “I forgot to mention…you might wanna try knocking down some walls to get around. Oh and hurry your ass up – the client is getting impatient.”

Click.

Bastard. Could have told her that earlier.

She pulled back up the map again. Her mind recalled that strange dead end she found earlier, the one where the map had insisted the Treasury was. Even though, when she examined everything, she found nothing. She wrote it off as just an empty hallway with a dead end. Perhaps she could go back and look again?

Jogging back to the area was easy. She didn’t come across any more demons. Which probably meant that this entire floor must be cleared. ____ tried looking at the entire hallway with fresh eyes.

The walls were caked in dust and badly water damaged. Fancy wallpaper with golden scroll designs peeled from the walls in ugly, jagged strips. A hand pushed back the flyaway bangs from her face absentmindedly. She pivoted round and round slowly. Eyes darted up to the ceiling. Only nonfunctioning light fixtures up there. She pressed her hands to the walls, running them all over to wherever she could reach, at times knocking here and there. Solid wood, no bulge or indent or anything to indicate a hidden doorway.

She huffed and blew her hair out of her face, cocking her right hip to the side and placing her hand on it. No luck here. Maybe there was something at the end of the hallway then?

Morrison said to knock down some walls. But damned if she was going to try and use her sword as a makeshift axe. ___ was not going to damage her main weapon for something like this. There just had to be another way somewhere. And she was determined to find it.

Following her gut feeling, she strode over to the little end table that perched innocently at the end of the hall. Hmm, no drawers or anything on it. Not even an ugly vase or picture. That was a bit disappointing. Just a slab of dark wood with four spindly legs. Hands grasped at the sides and tugged at it, intent on moving it so she could get access to the entire wall.

It didn’t budge.

Huh?

___ pulled at it again, a bit harder this time.

Nothing.

Grunting, she gripped it tighter and pulled at it with all her might. Her sweaty fingers slipped and she shot onto her back in a painful slap on the tiled floor. Groaning in pain, she rolled to her side. Ow…

Gingerly getting to her feet, she approached the stubborn bit of furniture again. It hadn’t even moved an inch. What the hell was it stuck to? Eyes flicked up but saw only a blank wall with that same fancy wallpaper that spanned the entire castle. She crouched down and looked underneath the table. Fingers slowly dragged across the polished wood, searching for anything unusual.

Click.

A forefinger depressed a little bump hidden in a far corner.

She picked up the faint sounds of stone grinding.

A grin of accomplishment split her lips as the wall, sans the table, suddenly melted into the ground to reveal a yawning entrance. She peered into the gloom, seeing stone stairs winding down away into inky darkness. Was this it?

Hands scrabbled around in her pockets. She knew there was a flashlight somewhere around in her many pockets. Let’s see…packets of instant coffee, a handful of Vitality Stars. Her fingers closed on it finally, shoved deep in the pocket on her left calf. 

She clicked it on, maneuvered around the table and slowly picked her way down the stairs.

Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard water dripping. She hoped that this wasn’t going to lead to the castle sewers. But then she shook that thought away. ___ couldn’t really imagine some stuck up noble trying to access his Treasury through a _sewer_. They could barely drive through the markets without smothering their faces with scented handkerchiefs.

Plus…someone went through a lot of trouble to build a secret entrance.

That had to mean she was on the right track, right?

Fingers tapped the side of her gun nervously as she crept deeper. The gloom made her lose her sense of time. How long had she been down here? A few minutes? Half an hour? It’s been just one extremely long tunnel this entire time. She wondered if maybe there was an illusion that blanketed the area, making her think she was going somewhere when she wasn’t.

She paused and glanced over her shoulder.

The darkness and silence prickled at her. She couldn’t even see the dim light of the entrance anymore. Gulping, she did her best to not linger on the possibility of the door just closing behind her. Trapping her in the bowels of the castle. With no way out.

Just keep going.

Eyes forward.

_But stay alert._

Filling her lungs fully with the damp stale air, she pressed on. 

She took care took muffle her footsteps as much as she could. But the echoes of her boots bounced off the walls despite her caution. She wasn’t sure if this was any more preferable than the suffocating silence. Every step, every rock she accidentally kicked made her start. Every scuff of the worn rubber and leather soles on the rough stone floor made her heart jump in her throat. 

____ forced herself to keep staring ahead. The last thing she wanted to do was accidentally turn herself around and wind back up at the entrance again just because she spooked herself.

It felt like agonizing hours before she finally came to a chamber. She flicked her flashlight around. Tall Grecian pillars lifted the ceiling high, beyond the slim streak of light her flashlight produced. For a place that was so spacious, she felt like it was crushing her. The air felt heavy and oppressive as she crossed it to see what was on the other end.

She huffed in irritation and disappointment.

Nothing again?

“There’s gotta be another hidden door. No one would go through all this hassle to put this place here without something.”

She backed away and stood in the center, wondering if maybe the floor might have a clue instead? Her foot passed over an unseen glyph. The ground trembled and she heard the roar of a demon in the distance….gradually coming closer and closer to her.

Fingers hurriedly unsheathed her longsword. She cursed the bad luck of having to fight with only her flashlight as the source of light she had. A battle in near darkness was to her disadvantage. And she was effectively incapacitated from using her gun, because it meant she’d have to either drop her sword or the flashlight to use it. 

She couldn’t afford to lose either, so only her sword skills it is.

The roars were much closer now.

She could even hear the faint clink of metal on stone as well.

In this dark, cavernous chamber…

____ felt so exposed and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it sweetlings, your first encounter with the man known as V. Dear, dear me - wasn't it so memorable?
> 
> Leave me some love dears, because I'm getting spooked. Until then~


	5. Mission’s End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V has been on his best behavior around you. Repressing his true nature to keep the game going…but let’s not forget why he does it in the first place. Also don’t laugh at the stupidly simple puzzles that show up later lol – they are not my forte but I needed something for you guys to do in this chapter since this is more of a filler than anything and I want to wrap up this quest so I can get onto the good stuff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow can I just say thank you for the outpour of love for this? :3 You guys are spoiling me and this is so going to keep me going when I start doctorate hell in...2 weeks yikes. Let's see how much of this I can post before then!

### Mission’s End

**Fucking hell.**

The flashlight shone on the ugliest demon ____ ever laid eyes as it lumbered into the chamber, puffing rancidly in her direction. Boils, filled with vile smelling fluid, continuously bubbled, broke and erupted all over it’s mottled, wet fleshy body. It stank of infection and fetid water. Just the stench alone made her stomach roil and dry heave. Thick bands of metal wrapped around its forearms and torso, broken chainlinks dangled from them, scraping like nails on the stone floor. Shackles? _But that meant it had been chained up at some point, emphasis on had been - _ And to top off its ghastly appearance, yellowing cracked talons tipped its feet and hands. Wickedly sharp and dangerous in the dim artificial light. 

It didn’t even have a fucking face. Just nothing but a formless blob of decaying meat that bubbled and oozed like a sentient slime as it barred the only exit out.

She never encountered a demon like this before. 

____ swallowed back the bile rising in her throat, and wiped at her watering eyes. The demon itself wasn’t the only thing she had to fight against, the god awful stench might just kill her if the demon didn’t do it first.

Hissing between clenched teeth, she crouched lower in a more defensive stance. The demon oozed in closer, snuffling wetly. Fetid air rushed at her. She tasted spoilage on her tongue. ____ rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a thick meaty limb that would have crushed her to a bloody, broken and unrecognizable pulp. She grimaced at the broken slabs of stone left in the wake from that one god damned attack. That demon left a fucking **crater.** If that had landed on her head – her skull would have been split like a watermelon.

Her chances of survival looked very grim from where she was standing.

Her fist clenched hard at the hilt of her sword. She shuffled towards its back as stealthily as she could before darting in _quick_ to slash at the back of what she assumed were legs.

It was like trying to cut through thick, gloppy jelly. Fuck! Her sword did nothing. A wasted attack. She tried slashing a diagonal stripe down its back, that didn’t do much either. It whirled around screeching at her. Gritting her teeth, she lunged in and brought down her sword to lop off an arm. Eyes widened in disbelief as the demon just simply _replaced it._

_I’m in trouble._ This demon was out of her class.

She hopped back several steps and tried to plot out Plan B, Plan C – something! But the demon relentlessly attacked, giving her no reprieve to properly plan and think. All she could do now was focus on dodging and ducking. Frantic mind trying to grasp at an idea that had some chance of at least incapacitating this monster. A quick mental run of her inventory gave her no inspiration – she had nothing on her that could be of any use. The small part of her that tried to cling to the hope that she won’t meet a sticky end here fizzled to grim resignation.

Blade whirling and glinting in the narrow beam of light, she tried striking at the iron bands. Other than screeching out a few sparks, that attack did nothing but annoy the demon further. The demon roared, its gravelly growl sounded like stones grinding the bones of its unfortunate victims to dust. Chains clanged and jangled as it tried to clap those rotting limbs to catch her. She had no choice but to throw herself backwards to avoid it.

Her foot slipped.

The back of her head cracked on the stones, sending bursts of painful stars exploding behind her eyes. She lost her grip on her sword from the impact and it skittered out beyond her reach, disappearing into the darkness. She fought against the stunning pain and rolled over to at least retrieve the flashlight.

And just her fucking luck, the flashlight began to flicker and dim before going out completely. Her vision plunged her into a sightless darkness.

Quickly, despite the vertigo, she rolled over to her hands and knees and hurriedly crawled to take cover behind the nearest pillar she could bump into. Her breathing came out in harsh puffs. Her hand quickly covered her mouth to stifle as much noise as she could. The demon snarled lowly, trying to sniff out where she had disappeared off to. It slowly squelched past the pillar she hid behind. 

Her heart raced as she slowly inched her hand closer to pull the gun from its holster. Then, she screamed, arms immediately covering her head, as the demon smashed an arm into the pillar she crouched behind. Rubble and debris pelted at her from above, raining pain. Her eyes felt gritty with dust. But she didn’t dare move because the shifting rocks would attract its attention even more.

It oozed closer and closer. Determined to find the source of that scream.

____ squeezed her eyes shut.

This was the end, wasn’t it?

**“Time to fry.”**

A howl of agony and then the crackle of blue lightning flared, lighting up the chamber so brightly that it seared even through her closed eyes. Stomach acid threatened to bubble past her lips as the acrid, foul smell of the charred demon intensified briefly before dissipating into a soured smokiness. 

Footsteps.

Clink of metal on stone.

Closer and closer to her.

“It’s safe now.” A teasing, lilting voice called out to her.

She cracked an eye open and immediately winced. There was a blurry shape of black crouching by her, lit up too brightly for her to handle. She forced her eyes to blink several times as she adjusted her sight to accommodate the surprising source of illumination. She impatiently waited until finally, her sight cleared itself.

V kneeled there, coolly assessing her. His arm was outstretched for his avian familiar to perch on. The bird demon was wreathed in blue lightning, trilling softly as it cocked its head at her. Shadows danced across his face and for a heart stopping moment, ____ thought he looked murderous.

“Looks like I arrived just in time.” He murmured, voice deceptively mild.

Inwardly, V _seethed_.

V tamped down the rage that sizzled within. Foolish, foolish little lamb! He was bristling at the fact that he even had to come after her to begin with. Did he not command her to inform him if she found the hidden entrance to the archives? If she had done what she was told, then he wouldn’t have had to step in to rescue her. The battle would have been over laughably quicker and sooner if they had come into the secret passageway together. 

_How dare his lamb put herself in harm’s way? How dare she nearly end his game prematurely with her recklessness? **How dare she disobey him?**_

More than anything right now, he wanted to wrap his long fingers around her throat and throttle her for her disobedience. To rip those soft thighs apart and spend his fury by slamming his cock over and over into her, _painfully_ until she begged for his mercy and forgiveness. He wanted to claw bleeding stripes all over her body until she promised him to never, ever dare to disobey his instructions again.

His nostrils flared, the only outward indication of his ire. He promised himself that he will discipline his lamb when the time was right. But for now…V had to be extremely careful not to loosen his tenuous grip on his temper. It was extremely important that she stay blissfully unaware of his true intentions for now.

Meanwhile, ____ completely missed how V carefully wiped his expression back to its blank, pleasant lines. She was still seeing spots and her body trembled from battle fatigue. She needed a moment to breathe and recover from her close brush with death. 

Although, now that the battle was over, she cursed inwardly to herself for losing so spectacularly to that demon. She felt a little insulted that V was able to kill this demon so easily while she struggled. More than anything, her pride was in tatters and being saved didn’t do much for it. She struggled but finally bottled her resentment and petulance away. Shouldn’t be ungrateful for getting her ass saved at least. 

“Thanks…” 

“Think nothing of it. I’m glad you’re alright.” His voice, politely cool as he straightened up.

Following his example, she unfolded her limbs and gingerly got up to her feet. Eyes darted around and quickly picked out her sword. She retrieved it and gave it a quick look, sighing in relief when it wasn’t too damaged, and sheathed it. Feeling the heft of it on her hip made her feel marginally better. Just barely though. ___ made a mental reminder to start packing explosives or something for her next mission. Hell, even a firecracker probably would have made that last fight easier for her.

A hand scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. She felt the urge to apologize. She didn’t mean to be so snappy at him and her lackluster gratitude was downright rude. She actually did know better than to take out her own annoyance at herself on someone else. And the man did go out of his way to save her sorry ass after all. Hunter pride or not, she owed him big time. “Hey uh V…mmh, sorry. I mean it though, thanks for coming in back there. I really owe you big time for that.” She placed as much emphasis as she could on that last part. 

A dark smirk lifted the corners of his lips. Her pretty eyes lowered to the ground contritely. Her visible submission and acknowledgement pleased him. Even though she was apologizing for the entirely wrong reason, V felt greatly mollified by her words. But that still won’t get her out of her impending punishment. _It just won’t be as bad now._

She deserved a little reward for her apology and gratitude. 

Those long, slim fingers lifted her chin up. “**He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.** I do not mind playing the white knight to save the day, ____.” V purred her name enticingly.

Heat suffused her cheeks at the sinful way he rolled her name. She coughed lightly and stepped away from him, trying to put some space between them without coming off rude. “That’s…good to know. I’ll uh…try not to make it a habit though.” She dipped her chin shyly into her shoulder.

A husky, indulgent chuckle made her lower belly clench in desire. God – the havoc this man was wreaking on her hormones! Just the sound of that dark, sensuous voice made her belly flip flop unsettlingly and not for the first time she felt thrown back at how intensely she was reacting to it. She felt like she was getting a mental whiplash from the jarring dichotomy he kept putting her through. One moment terrifying her, making her feel as if she was cornered by a hungry panther. The next moment making her body heat up with lust in unexpected ways.

_I can’t think straight…_

“Hmm…now that we’re here, perhaps you would like to return the favor and assist me?” _ Go on lamb, show me how grateful you are. Show me how eager you are to repay my kindness._ He pressed his tongue against his closed teeth, keeping his predatory grin from slipping past the ‘safe’ façade he played for her. 

She latched on to the change of topic. Something safe. Something _normal_. Something to keep her from questioning the flurry of confusion that kept tilting her world upside and over every single time he spoke.

“Yeah – I would love to help. What exactly do you need me to do?” She looked so preciously curious now.

V chuckled again, such an innocent, eager response from his little lamb. He was reminded again of the reasons he continued to toy with her. V loved the turmoil that flashed across her expressive eyes, the way her body betrayed her discomfort. The terror and wariness that warred with the confusion and desire he elicited in her. And the fucking innocence that sometimes cropped up now and again.

_You are just too precious my little lamb._

He shifted his arm to launch Griffon off. The familiar swept in a full circle around the chamber, lighting the hidden sconces built high on the remaining pillars. The chamber lit up as bright as day. ___ examined the illuminated room, wondering what she had previously missed with her flashlight as she waited for V to continue.

“Fortuna Castle houses an archive – in particular an extremely rare tome on magic. My client –“ Here, V felt a curl of amusement, “-wishes to acquire it. I imagine you would also find some pretty baubles to take for yourself, if you care to.”

Her eyes drifted back down to him. Shrugging a shoulder, “’Kay. I’ll start looking around for a way in on this side.” A stray thought crossed her mind, how much easier it became to breathe when she was far away from him…and how much less on edge she became too…

They systematically scoured every available inch of the chamber. The area itself was circular. Even with the sconces lit, the tops of the pillars and the ceiling still flared high out of sight. ___ turned her eyes to the floor. If not up…then down?

The floor was caked with dust and muck. She hunched a little over, bracing her hands on her knees and examined the center of the chamber. The side of her boot scraped off slime from a rather odd looking stone slab that did not fit with the design of the rest of the floor. It was a dusty pink sandstone medallion, glaringly mismatched from the limestone that lined the rest of the chamber. She cleaned it off as best as she could. A grimace furrowed her face when she realized that she may have to replace her footwear. Whatever that demon had left behind, it ate into the leather of her boots a little.

“What’s this?” She wondered aloud, catching V’s attention.

V recognized what it was immediately, recalling the information he had procured earlier. “Our way in.” _At last._

An Ouroboros, eternally devouring itself was etched on the stone. Using the tip of his cane, he pried it out and lifted it. The stone was perhaps at least five inches wide in diameter. There had been a small, empty circular depression he discovered on one of the walls. And it looked to be exact shape and size of this little keystone.

“Come ____. I believe I know where the lock is.”

The stone flared a deep orange as V fitted it into its lock. The wall swirled and shifted like a mirage, curling away like smoke to reveal another set of stone stairs that descended further. At least this time though, the passage was lit by luminescent lichen and fungi. ____ counted her blessings. She’ll take eerie glowing moss over fumbling around in the dark.

Chilly fingers grasped her wrist. V grinned ferally when his little lamb started at the sudden contact. His thumbnail pressed lightly over the racing pulse on her wrist; the panicked rhythm fluttering underneath his touch sent curls of heat throughout his body.

His sweet lamb…so damned responsive. It was nearly enough to make him forgive her for her earlier foolishness.

Almost.

But it did put him in a much more playful mood.

“Best to stay as close as possible.” He purred. “So we don’t get separated by traps.” There was a teasing glint in his gaze as he watched her from over his shoulder.

That…made sense. But it didn’t do much to still the anxiety and paranoia that he triggered. Something felt off about the way his fingers looped around her like that. It felt like…well it felt like she was suddenly put on a _leash._

_Am I just being crazy right now? This whole mission has just been one giant mind clusterfuck. I don’t know what I can and can’t trust anymore. The red flags keep popping up in my head around V, but he hasn’t done anything other than just give me weird vibes. But is it hormones or something else that’s making me so prickly about him?_

She inwardly sighed. She was starting to get a headache and decided to give it a rest for now. God, she hoped that the mission was almost over. The fatigue from the entire day, coupled with the fact that she had yet to sleep in near…oh thirty or so hours, was taking its toll on her. 

Lack of sleep, high stakes, high stress mission… ____ was taking this paranoia to the extremes.

Again, rationalizing away the uneasiness. 

A good coping mechanism…to an extent.

Her free hand slipped into her right pocket and she popped a Vitality Star in her mouth. Just a little pick me up – something to hopefully get her through to the end.

They continued down the passage in silence. Just as before, the tunnel ran only straight after coming down the stairs. V lightly tugged her along behind him, relishing at how docile and unresisting his lamb was being right now. Wrapping himself tightly in her sweet scent. Letting his mind fill with lurid fantasies – no _promises_ – of possessing her in every way possible. Flashes of her bound in silk, waiting to be unwrapped. Dark blue and black bruises in the shapes of his teeth and fingers decorating her skin, branding her as his. Sweet wide eyes watering in fear and desire as he traced hot lines across that soft, supple skin with a sharp knife.

V stopped himself before the fantasies became more explicit. Otherwise, he might not be able to hold back from acting out every single one of his desires right here and now. His little lamb at the very least, deserved much better than being rutted against on a dirty floor.

…For her first time with him anyways.

At last, they exited the lichen tunnel and into another chamber. This area was brightly lit with torches that flared white hot. Unfamiliar glyphs and symbols twinkled in a soft silver like stars all around. Runes even littered the ceiling and floor in fantastical arrays, like mystical constellations.

V stopped them just an inch or two shy of the actual chamber. V lightly tapped the point of his cane onto a rune before quickly withdrawing it back. The chamber lit up, brighter than the sun. He heard a sizzle coming from within and smiled grimly as it confirmed his suspicions. V pushed them back into the tunnel a little further as the chamber reset itself, twinkling innocently again.

“A trap, I see. It appears we will need to take careful note of where we step.”

____’s eyes were already searching around for a clue on how to pass through safely. These places always had something – a hidden reminder for the person who set the traps because people forgot so easily. She snorted softly to herself. It was silly but it reminded her of that one ridiculously easy mission she taken last year, where all she had to do was to break in to steal some documents. And it ended up being a piece of cake because the dumb fuck actually left the key to his house underneath the welcome mat. Like anyone wasn’t going to check there first.

Tugging her wrist free, oblivious to the scowl of displeasure that crossed V’s face momentarily, ____ lifted her eyes to look at arched doorway of the chamber. “I think…I can’t read it but there’s something carved up there.” She pointed, trying to air trace it to see if it would make any more sense to her.

“Lux…in…te…neb…ris…lucet.”

What? 

“I can’t make heads or tails out of that…What do you think V?”

A gleam in V’s eyes, sharp mind already working out the answer. “Lux in tenebris lucet. The Light that shines in the Darkness.” V stepped closer to the chamber and examined the rune he had experimentally touched. 

The rune for Day. Next to it, a rune for Night.

As before, he tapped his cane on it again. This time, the white flames of the torches within dimmed to a flickering purple. Shadows danced throughout the chamber and nearly half of the runes that had been visible before now winked out of existence. His eyes traced over the remaining symbols. A smattering of runes for Light, Fire, and Dawn lit in a row on one side. The other end of the chamber held the runes for Knowledge, Soul and Kindling. And one more cluster, straight down the middle was lit with Illumination, Enlightenment and Ignite.

“Which ones are we supposed to use?” Latin was not something she picked up. She hoped V knew what he was doing because she didn’t want to fry off a mistranslation.

“All of them.” He murmured, gazing at them earnestly as he worked out the order. “The key is in the meaning of the phrase, ‘The Light that shines in the Darkness’. Whoever designed this trap was quite the pretentious bastard.” He rumbled in amusement. “No doubt, someone who thought too highly of himself as a scholar.”

“Yeah well, I’m not exactly a high brow philosopher so this is the perfect keep away for me. You wanna share what’s ticking in that brain of yours?” 

“They are set in clusters of three each, but they are all out of order. Our scholar is shallow minded at best, I have little doubt that he created anything more complicated than a simple matching puzzle.”

____ just shook her head, V was talking nonsense to her. “I’ll follow your lead on this one. Puzzle games aren’t exactly my favorite pastime.” Although maybe she really should look into picking up a book more often. She felt a little embarrassed for being stumped by something like this. Especially if it was really as simple as V made it out to be. Her resourcefulness and sharp mind was better applied to battle strategy than brain teasers. Or in dodging shady loan sharks too.

How well his lamb deferred to him. “Very well. Be careful to not activate any of the runes unless I instruct you to.”

Kindling, Ignite, Fire. The outline of a door appeared.

Dawn, Light, Illumination. Silver handles scrolled in existence.

Knowledge, Soul, Enlightenment. The click of a lock opening.

How boringly simple, V thought with a slight bite of contempt. It hadn’t even mattered which cluster they activated first. The only requirement was to have the groupings correctly. And the trap creator hadn’t even bothered to go beyond the obvious. Ignited Kindling made Fire. A Soul that acquires Knowledge reaches Enlightenment. The Dawn brings Light which gives the world Illumination.

V wanted to roll his eyes at the absurdity. 

But at last, finally the doors to the archive. 

It was only a sparse little room, hardly bigger than a study. There were locked cabinets that lined one side of the wall, and a spindly desk layered by what must have been decades of dust and cobwebs. Rotting shelves held a collection of dusty items – empty bottles and jars, a crumbing human mandible and one entire row was lined with empty glass blown bowls. It was…unimpressive to ____, to say the least. V took no note of the room, his eyes only gazed at the book that sat on the desk covetously.

There it was.

The Émigré Manuscript.

Holding in his breath in anticipation, V gingerly lifted it. The pages rustled and crackled but thankfully did not crumble. There was a cold magic that lingered over it. It reeked of Death. He tucked it away into a bag that he brought for the sole purpose to carry it safely. Something like that needed to be handled very, very carefully.

____, however felt chills prickle up and down her spine the moment she entered the room. She decided to follow her instincts and not chance at trying to pick the locks of the cabinets for anything to pilfer. Something told her to leave the rest alone to sit unforgotten, out of the memory of humankind. There were just some things that were not meant to see the light of day ever again. And this entire room with its curios and oddities was definitely one of them.

“Ready to go?” She asked.

“Yes, if you are finished here as well. Let’s return back to the castle.”

The journey back seemed abnormally quick. When they returned back to the ground floor of the castle, ____ couldn’t suppress the relieved sigh that passed her lips. The gloom of the ruined castle seemed far less ominous now compared to the memory of the lower levels hidden beneath it. The path to the archive and the dusty little research room reeked of a strange, cloying magic that numbed her soul with a chill that made her imagine shadows were reaching out to devour her. She wondered if it was another type of defense mechanism to keep intruders and would be thieves away from there. 

She was glad to be out of there.

**RINNG! RINNNGG!**

“Bad news ____. The client’s pissed and just fired you. Sorry, looks like you’re not getting paid for anything you got done at the castle.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Wish that I was. But keep the advancement as a gesture of my appreciation for coming all the way out here. Talk to you again.”

Click.

_Great. I knew it – this mission was a bust from the get go._

Her shoulders sagged in disappointment but she quickly composed herself and pointedly ignored the curious look from V. “So uh V, thanks again back there. I hope you got what you needed down there. I gotta jet back home for business. Um…feel free to look me up if you’re ever in Enamel, yeah?”

V lightly flicked his fingers at the underside of her chin, eyes gleaming with heat. “But of course. A visit in the near future sounds lovely. Be safe ____. We will meet again soon.” He promised darkly, leaning in close to let his hot breath fan across her lips teasingly.

He was a generous man. His little lamb clearly needed a little rest. 

_Until then little lamb. Be a good girl._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I get whiplash by how fast V's emotions changes. And remember he's unhinged, anything (real or imagined) seems to set him off in one extreme or the other.
> 
> Cheers to those who caught that Shadow Hearts reference. Heehee.
> 
> Until Next Time sweetlings - enjoy that break from V. Absence makes the heart fonder and whatnot, yes?


	6. Back to the Grind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok just one more post for tonight heehee - I managed to wrangle a little extra free time for this. Then a bit of a break - I need to plot on how this er... unlikely courtship is gonna go. I'm finding that if I don't get hung up on word count, I somehow update faster? What a wild thought!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sleep and caffiene and now you're thinking a lot clearer about things you missed or kept dismissing, well - better late than never? And not to mention, more of V's filthy fantasies starring you. Isn't that lovely?

### Back to the Grind

A tongue darted out to lap the flecks of blood from the corners of his lips. The coppery tang sizzled like ambrosia on his palate, quenching his thirst for the time being. He had held off on feeding for far too long while he lingered at Fortuna Castle. It was a relief that the mission was completed when it did, the gnawing pain had become beyond unbearable. Any moment longer there and V would find himself quite upset at having to end his game prematurely to snack on ____. 

Thankfully for him though, his sweet lamb lived to see another day.

He wondered what she was doing now. Thinking of him?

“…S-someone…h-h-…lp…mon-…er.”

Rudely brought out of his musings, V turned a cold glare at the man that lay broken at his feet. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, why must these simpletons always ruin what was supposed to be a perfectly good meal? Swiftly crouching down, his long pale fingers tangled in the man’s dark hair and slammed him face first into the wet pavement to quiet his pitiful whimperings. 

“It appears that you have yet to learn proper manners.” He growled darkly, lifting the man’s head to spit into his face in contempt.

Blood streamed from the man’s broken nose and split lip. The left eye had swollen shut and was crusting over with congealed blood. The rest of the man was in worse shape. Right leg bent in an awkward angle, splinters of a snapped fibula jutted out, oozing blackened blood through the skin. A growing patch of wet blood soaked his once crisp white button up shirt. And yet even more blood was spurting out from the left stump of a shoulder where the arm once fitted into. 

V had been a little…overenthusiastic.

But it mattered not. His cane made short work of the rest of his pitiful prey, channeling magic into that ravenous black hole within. His eyes fluttered closed, satiated again for the time being. The aftershocks of that crippling pain from repressing his Hunger began to ebb away, leaving him limber and able to move freely again.

V felt a little lazy and well fed. 

Ah, but there was much work to do.

Summoning Shadow to his side, V had his familiar cart off the body to be disposed of. As long as it was hidden and out of sight, it didn’t matter where the demon took the body. Keys dangled merrily from his fingers. A parting gift. How _generous_ of his latest meal to give him a place to stay. 

A little tasteful country manor.

Situated conveniently close to….Enamel City.

Indulgent chuckles dripped from his lips. His sweet, sweet, precious lamb was hardly a half hour’s reach away. How foolish she had been, to willingly give away her location like that. It only made it that much easier for him to keep track of her. Right now, no doubt she was tucked away safely in her home. Slipping into a cradle of a false sense of security once she returned back to familiar grounds. 

He licked his lips in anticipation of shattering that sense of safety.

He’ll rip it away from her within a heartbeat.

She will never be able to associate anything familiar without it being tainted by the memory of _him._ Oh no, never ever, ever. ____ was set squarely, firmly in his sights now. What had begun as a game to entertain himself blossomed beautifully into something much more sinister and enjoyable.

He stalked up the stairs to the master bedroom, eyeing it critically. There was quite a bit of renovating to be done, the previous owner had terrible taste. His lips twisted into a sneer as he fingered the cheap synthetic sheets of the bed, and again at the lack of luxury that appeared to be the theme of the manor as he explored. V grew up with wealth at his fingertips as Vergil, and he saw no reason to leave that behind now.

He paused and let his mind drift. A brief fantasy of seeing ____ sprawled on silken sheets titillated him. V returned back to the master bedroom and undressed fully before reclining on the bed. He pushed away the irritation at how the cheap fibers scratched at his skin and instead let his mind wander to much more pleasurable thoughts.

Visions of his lamb spreading beautifully for him, beneath him had blood rushing straight to his cock. V wrapped his long elegant fingers around the hardened arousal, hissing at the contact of his chilled fingers on the scorching flesh. A few brief passes, before he slipped those fingers into his mouth to slicken them. He growled darkly as his thoughts raced.

He wondered how many orgasms it would take before he made her pass out from exhaustion? How experienced was she? Oh there would be no forces in Heaven or Hell that will keep him from fucking her raw and _thoroughly_ once he laid his hands on her, that was certain.

Was ____ a screamer? Or perhaps she mewled softly, all sweet hot pants and gentle cries? V wondered how the juices from her cunt would taste as he dipped his tongue in greedily into her. His hand gripped harder and quickened his rhythm. Oh, he could imagine her on her knees, reddened and swollen lips spread wide to take him in fully into her mouth. His tongue dragged wetly across his lips as he imagined the sounds of her slurping and _gagging_ as he slammed his cock down her throat. Silky hair laced tightly around his fingers to hold her still. He wanted to see the drool slip from her lips and down her chin, mixed with his cum. V wanted to see her gurgle and sputter on his cum as he wrapped his fingers and squeezed her soft neck. To see her eyes widen in fear of asphyxiation with the taste of him on her tongue and lips.

She would look exquisite. Rosy blooms rushing to her cheeks, eyes wet. And no doubt, if he slipped his fingers between her legs, he would find her cunt hot and dripping and ready for him.

“Sweet, sweet ____.” He growled. 

Disappointingly, he came hard, hot splashes of his cum spilling over his hands and belly before his fantasies could run their full course. What a terrible shame, V thought as he lazily continued to stroke himself. He wanted his little lamb here and now to eagerly lap him clean.

_Work first. Then I can pay her a…visit._ He promised himself as he drifted to sleep.

He wasn’t quite finished with his games for her just yet.

**\---------- **

____ threw an arm over her eyes as she lay on her bed. A long cold shower and some cheap fast food had her feeling more human. Her hair spread wetly over the pillow, slowly air drying. She wore only her oversized shirt and pajama bottoms. 

She was flat broke again. The advancement from Morrison had been enough to keep those loan sharks satisfied. But it left very little for her to work with in terms of her other…obligations. Turning on her side, she sighed and resolved to wake up early to check the bars for mission requests. Maybe just some easy ones – the mission at Fortuna that had gone shitfaced exhausted her completely. Her body wouldn’t be able to handle anything that hefty for awhile.

It took less than a heartbeat before she drifted off to a fitful sleep.

A sense of vague terror and paranoia plagued her dreams that night. A sharp smile and glittering green eyes haunted her steps, pumping dread and lust in her veins. Phantom caresses traced the curves of her thighs as her dream swirled her away. She moaned softly into her pillow as her legs shifted and clenched tightly together. Unconscious to the fact that it was V that she was dreaming of.

She woke up with no recollection of her nightmares. 

____ instead picked up her routine, right where she left off. Always the coffee maker would be the first thing she stumbled to first thing in the morning. Something with a dark roast, sweetened with dollops of condensed milk. One cup and the leftovers put on the warmer to be finished after the rest of her morning routine. When the caffeine finally worked its way into her brain, a quick icy shower usually did the trick to shake the rest of the sleepiness away. 

She finger combed her wet hair and decided to just leave it down. She peeked in her closet for something clean to wear. Her usual day outfits were pretty much all the same. Simple shirts and faded jeans that were well worn and washed one too many times. She pulled a face as she looked over her boots. Those were a lost cause, they definitely weren’t going to be protecting her toes anymore judging that the giant holes in the leather. Her eyes flicked to the rest of her room, at least whatever ate through the leather didn’t do any damage to the apartment. The only bit of clothing she truly valued was her favorite leather jacket. It was the only thing she bothered to keep regular maintenance on. It had been a gift from an old friend, the same one who taught her the skills needed to survive this ruthless world. 

Guiltily, she also was reminded that she didn’t visit nearly as often as she should.

“Maybe another day, when I have more time.” The same old lame excuse. 

After dressing, she padded back to the cramped living room, grabbing the carafe and another cup from the coffee maker. She slowly sipped at the scalding hot coffee, intent on finishing the carafe before leaving for the day. 

She mulled over the mission at the castle. Letting the heat from her cup ground her, remind her that it was over now. Her mind felt much clearer, sharper today. And now that she was blessedly, far, far away from the man who called himself V…her wariness and suspicions hit her anew like a ton of bricks.

“His timing there is really suspicious…” She frowned into her empty cup. Her mind helpfully recalled how she had followed his familiar all over the damned castle on a wild goose chase before it conveniently brought her to him. Then how he conveniently swooped in to save her from that … _rotting slime demon_ right before it was about to smush her into a pulp. 

“Was it all a set up?” She wondered. “Or just a string of really, really unlucky coincidences?”

Her last cup for the day. She drank it straight without any sweeteners.

She meticulously went through every single interaction, trying to recall every single detail as clearly as she could. The dread that seemed to dog her every steps ever since she set foot in the castle walked slow icy fingers up her spine. The eeriness she felt the entire time right up before she met him - She vividly recalled the feeling of eyes watching her every step as she battled her way through the castle while chasing down his familiar.

“Had he been…_following_ me all over the entire castle the whole time?” A violent shiver skittered through her whole body at the thought. Her heart dropped to her stomach at how very likely it was. 

Her mind shifted to how he always seemed to invade her personal space, overwhelming her with his very intimidating presence and unholy sensuality to the point where her brain just sputtered and died to leave her on autopilot. Her fingers gripped her wrist, recalling the chilly possessiveness of his grasp. And that last encounter seared alarms into her brain. 

What had she been fucking thinking, telling him to visit her?

“Fuck – I’m in trouble.” She hissed to herself.

She tugged her beloved jacket a little tighter around her, feeling her bones freezing despite the warm sun filtering in. Eyes flicked nervously to the window, apprehensive that she was going to find a shadow flitting by. Or perhaps catch a glimpse of blue wings.

But then she relaxed, breathing out the tension as she remembered one more very important detail.

She lived on the top floor of this building.

Exactly for that reason. No creeper was going to be able to scale up ten floors worth of an apartment just to creep on her. Granted there was a fire escape that led directly into her bedroom but that was why she always slept with a gun by her bed. A knife under her pillow and under the mattress. And if it came to that, her longsword was always within reach.

Still… “I’d be pretty stupid to think he’s done fucking around with me after all that.” 

____ frowned to herself at that. 

It seems…that her nightmares were just beginning then…

Her fists clenched and a snarl twisted her lips. “Like hell I’m going to play his twisted games.” She promised herself to not drop her guard so stupidly again. This vulnerable feeling had her both trembling in fear and anger. She would not be a victim again! And if he insisted on pushing her too far, she will skewer his heart with her sword to end this.

Mind set, she got up, the cheap metal chair she sat in scraped against the linoleum noisily. Let him come, the reckless part of her brain sneered. “-But damned if I let him stop me from enjoying my life. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life just running away and hiding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check your locks, try not to think about the hungry predator watching you.  
Until next time sweetlings~


	7. Jumping at Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the track that keeps coming to mind when I think about Enamel City  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-FdsYXXDrc [Final Fantasy 7 - Under the Rotting Pizza]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sweetlings for the love and support - I'm positively giddy with each comment I get and each time I see the hits tick up!! I love each and everyone of you guys, and don't think that I'm ignoring you if I don't respond to a comment right away - I'm terrible with backlog :P
> 
> I feel like the more I dive into this, the more things are starting to click for me about my style. And I gotta say, writing a deranged and horny V? Feels like the most natural thing I've done :3 (lol oh dear, I'm going to hell aren't I?)

### Jumping at Shadows

Her skin _crawled_.

There was an itch that needled and pricked from beneath unpleasantly. Made her cagey. Despite her earlier heated defiance not even ten minutes ago, ____ found herself hesitating and lingering by her front door. A hand trembled as it gripped the doorknob so tight, her knuckles turned white from the lack of blood flow. So reluctant to leave the relative safety…the _familiarity_ of her humble abode. So reluctant to step back out in the world where _he_ roamed freely. Unrestrained and wild.

Here in her own home, she was master. She was in control.

Out there though…she was vulnerable. By no means helpless but she saw firsthand that even her own hard earned skills were spectacularly outclassed by the sleek and deadly predator who prowled in her nightmares and overactive imagination when she’s asleep and awake.

____ tasted fear in so many different flavors before, but this one was a fear on a whole different scale. This one lingered like a festering infection. Burrowing into her so deep, parasitizing her and leeching away all her sanity and leaving only dread and paranoia to chill her heart and bones. ____ was also reluctant to name that _other_ fear of the insidious lust that ran hot in her blood. She didn’t think she’d be one of those women for whom fear made the most forbidden yet sweetest aphrodisiac. 

Her heart raced, thumping painfully in her throat and chest. Ready to burst at any moment.

Even now, she wavered between these two jarring sensations, playing at her mind and senses like a tug of war. Terror and _fascination_. Paranoia and _lust_. 

She licked her dry lips.

“But I can’t hole up in here forever.”

Something normal, something routine…that should get her back on track again. The more she kept mulling over this, the more spooked she was going to make herself. Nodding firmly to herself at that resolution (let’s see how long it lasts), she twisted the doorknob before she lost her nerve and gulped deeply before stepping out. The lock jingles. She tugged at it experimentally and satisfied that it was firmly shut and locked tight, turned on her heel to take the stairs down. 

All ten flights. 

It was a shitty apartment, the elevator only went up three floors. Everyone else that lived above those highly coveted floors had to book it on foot. It sucked ass in the middle of summer when the AC barely blew anything more than hot air in the whole building, the heat rising made the entire building sweat and the unwanted cardio from climbing up made the season, the worst ever. Just as equally awful was when she had to haul up laundry or groceries or as was the norm, her hungover body up all those god damned stairs. By the time she got back up, she was usually dripping in sweat, red face and irritated beyond belief.

If there was any type of rating on this place, it’d have _negative_ stars. The slumlord who ran the building could hardly give two fucks about the living conditions of the tenants. Paint chipped and flaked all over, pipes and toilets constantly clogged and the poor custodian was always run ragged trying to fix everything. Nothing was considered enough of an emergency to make the owner bring the place up to code. And the last guy who tried to push forward any type of change, well…the only thing he’s pushing now is daisies last time she checked.

____ wouldn’t trade it though.

It was _security_. The climb up was grueling, even someone fit would find themselves breathless and fatigued. If some idiot made it up to her apartment, they’d be too out of breath to put up much of a fight. Easy pickings.

…and it helped immensely that the top floor was dirt cheap. It was a place to store her things and to sleep in without always having one eye cracked open for danger.

Plus – this was Enamel City. Shitty living conditions was the norm for everyone.

Pulling up the collar of her jacket, ____ jogged down the stairs. Footsteps clanking down in a rapid staccato as she rushed through the humid stairwells. The blood pumping through her veins pushed away the sluggishness and chill that paranoia wrapped her in. 

She was running hot now.

Alert and ready.

On guard.

She curled that feeling round and round herself tightly like a security blanket. One way or another, she will survive another day.

Cold grey skies cast the seedy city in a pallor of ashen grey. At this hour, the streets are crowded and packed full of stale sweaty bodies getting from point A to B, and in the shadowy alleys, there were the dodgier residents swapping shady deals and gossip. ____ weaved her way through, hands tucked deeply into the side pockets of her jacket and head bowed low. Blending in with everyone else who hurried along, minding their own business. Sticking your nose where it didn’t belong got you more than just hot water in Enamel City. And no one who had enough brain cells to rub together wanted to find out what that was.

Legs strode confidently with muscle memory down the twisting streets and cramped alleys. First order of business for the day. She had a very pressing matter to attend to first. 

Left, left…straight…right, and another left. She backtracked a few times for good measure just in case there was someone trailing her. And then did it one more time just because she was that paranoid.

It had been her imagination (she hoped so anyways), but ____ swore violently that she saw fingers reaching for her in the shadows from the corner of her eyes. Thought she felt chilly hands gripping her arms, hard enough to leave bruises that would last for days. Her neck prickled uncomfortably every time an icy breeze puffed past her. And her damned memory kept tricking her nose into smelling deep bitter chocolate and spice.

Even with just the meager imitation of her memory, ____ felt herself simultaneously shivering and salivating.

Egh…think of something else…

She easily hopped over a six-foot chainlink fence and grinned when she saw her destination up ahead. Never tired of the sight every time she dropped by. It was home away from home.

Legs darted quickly to the rickety front steps, doors were blown wide open by the gusting wind that was starting to pick up. ____ made sure to close them behind her so the little cozy place didn’t lose any more heat.

“____!”

“Mother Superior.” She teased playfully. Eyes glittering in mirth at the mid-fifties aged woman who puffed her cheeks out in annoyance at her.

____ paid for that though when the woman jabbed a finger sharply into her ribs.

“Ow! Watch your bony fingers!”

“Can it with the ‘Mother Superior’. Can’t you start calling me by my real name already?” The woman shook her finger at her menacingly, her other hand fisted on her hip. With the drab grey dress, dirty apron, her greasy brown and grey streaked hair pulled sternly back into a bun at the nape of her neck and the motherly annoyed expression – Teresa looked every bit like an angry nun. Hence the playfully derogatory nickname of Mother Superior. Even her name was inspired by one of the most famous nuns of all. It just made it too perfect.

“Like it makes much of a difference.” ____ snarks, raising an eyebrow.

Teresa huffed, keeping her matronly scowl for a moment longer before grinning widely at her. Dumpy, flabby arms pulled the younger woman into a tight hug. Wrapping ____ in a cocoon of love and warmth and the smells of a hot, home cooked meal. Teresa in turn felt the girl awkwardly patting her back, feeling the bony shoulders digging into her. 

“Come on, you just saw me last week. You keep acting like I came back home from war or something.” ____ was grinning widely however.

Visiting Teresa’s rickety house was always a treat. Granted, the woman lived deep in the middle of the city, in a weedy overgrown lot. The ‘house’ was nothing more than four flimsy walls with a leaky roof but…well it was a _sacred_ place for people like herself. Teresa ran a shelter of sorts, providing a safe haven, hot meals and a place to sleep temporarily, with no questions asked. As sappy as it was, ____ called it a house built on love and charity. Because it was the truth.

The woman was a saint. Hence, the beloved moniker given by those who loved her and knew her best.

And because of the _types_ of people she’s cared for over the years, no one bothered the woman who’s life’s mission it was to be a mother to everyone she meets. ____ knew there was truth to the rumors of a notorious _mob boss_ who held a soft spot for Teresa. And Hunters like herself who declared the little weedy lot under their protection.

“Are you here for some breakfast? I’ve got bacon that’s ready to be fried up today.” Teresa tempted, ____ needed to eat more.

“Normally I’d stick around, but I just wanted to stop by and let you know I’m still alive. Got business today.” 

Teresa rolled her eyes. This girl was always busy with one thing or another. She wasn’t born yesterday. ____ made excuses to not eat because she hated to use up any food that Teresa could be using to feed the others staying at the shelter. Not to mention, if she was here then that meant…

“Oh yeah – got a present for you.”

There it is. A wad of bills pressed into her bony hands.

____ mostly visited so often to help keep Teresa’s coffers with money to run her shelter.

Money that she was grateful for as it meant Teresa could keep her doors open another night, but wished the girl would just keep it for herself. 

“You need a nice rich husband ____.”

She flushed darkly and squeaked in embarrassment, at the sudden exclamation from the older woman, “Wh-keep out of my love life!”

Teresa gave her a sly look, already sensing a juicy story beneath that immediate, explosive embarrassment like a bloodhound. Someone’s defensive. “Oh ho! So someone’s finally got you all flustered for once? Are you going to bag him anytime soon?”

____ glowered at her, refusing to say anything more on the subject.

“This discussion is over. Done. Case closed.”

Teresa chuckled as the young Devil Hunter stomped out. These kids were so entertaining. She hoped whoever this mystery man was, at least showed her a good time. ____ seemed interested enough. And lord knows, ____ needed to be taken care of before she worked herself to death.

_Geez, since when did she get so nosy?_ ____ backtracked back to the main streets. Running a hard through her hair, blunted nails scraping her scalp, she fought to bring down her telltale blush. _Can’t I just have one day where I can just get on with my life?_ She shook her head. Teresa got bored sometimes, and loved prying into people’s lives to gather gossip. She might just have to cross off visiting in the future for a while until the old witch lost interest in nabbing her a husband.

Huffing in irritation, she turned the corner to the next place on her list.

The peeling sign on the window read – ‘Grim Metalworks.’

Her nose instinctively wrinkled at the sharp metallic tang that pinched the inside of her nostrils and made her mouth feel like she was sucking on pennies. It wasn’t a pleasant place to be window shopping at, that’s for sure if you had no business being in there.

The welcome is decidedly the opposite of Teresa’s. There is no one else in the store but Grim, the gruff weaponsmith whose bite is worse than his bark if you get on his bad side. The man looked as grim as his name too, especially with that ferocious shark’s grin, full of gaps and teeth yellowed from age and cigarettes. Keeping watch over his hot and sweaty cramped shop that smelled always of burnt solder and gunpowder like a ferocious pitbull. 

____ simply nodded in at him and quickly stalked over to the explosives. The memory of her ill-fated battle with the slime demon had her wondering about adding something with _bang_ to her arsenal. Behind the glass cases were so many kinds; regular hand grenades, dynamite…she raised an interested eyebrow, Molotov cocktails and computer programmed detonators. Crouching down, she peered on the lower shelves, needing something a bit easier to carry. What did those flash bombs do?

“Go with the explosive bullets girlie.” 

Her chin jerked up to see Grim sliding a box on the counter for her to inspect.

“Yer too much of a priss to carry a load of hand grenades and I doubt yer smart enough to program a fucking bomb to not blow up on you. Best bet for an airhead like you is a good set of bullets that will do the work for you.” Blackened fingers nudged at the box. “Standard kit – won’t blow til it rips through something meaty, heh.” He wheezed to himself at the unintended innuendo.

She shrugged off the slew of insults he barbed her way. By now, she’s learned that this is Grim being somewhat friendly. ____ earned some street cred with the greasy bearded old man for actually surviving as a Devil Hunter and as a young piece of ass in a shitty place like Enamel. Gotta respect a young pretty thing that knew how to sting and gut up someone without breaking a sweat.

“What’s the damage?” ____ readied herself to haggle. 

The two battled fiercely over the price. It took a good fifteen minutes before both parties were satisfied. Grim lightened her wallet and ____ got to take home three boxes of the bullets with a few pepper smoke bombs thrown in. Exchanging parting insults with the grumpy shopkeeper, she exited with her newest purchase. A round already loaded into the gun she always kept tucked inside her jacket within easy reach. If the opportunity arises, she’d get to test out her new merchandise.

____ glanced up at the darkening sky. She hadn’t realized that she taken up the whole day with running around town. The sun was setting behind the clouds, setting the steely sky on fire with angry reds and oranges. Lightning flashed in the distance and a roll of thunder shuddered through the air. She bit her lip and wondered if she should stop by the bar to check for missions or just go on home.

Her little daytrip helped push the thoughts of Fortuna out of her mind. Mostly. She did jump several times though, when strangers accidentally bumped into her. And once she snarled and frightened a young man who did nothing but step on her foot. He probably pissed himself as he ran off, given how violent her expression was. 

But now that it was getting _darker…_ The rapidly lowering temperature and the flickering of the streetlights in the gloom of nightfall was bringing back some of those memories that she wanted desperately to stay behind in the castle where it belonged.

“Home.” She decided. There was booze at home too. In her crappy apartment, at the very top of an equally shitty building…where it was _safe_.

A seeping paranoia leaking into her brain pushed her to hurry back. Something warm, something to sting her tongue and throat and put fire in her belly. That might do the trick to ward off the chill prickling her again. Breaths came out in smoky puffs into the night. Threatening shadows lengthened around her, making her nervous enough to quicken her pace even more. Her light jog broke into a heart pounding run. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled as another icy gust swirled around her.

She passed by a bakery, catching the smell – oh fucking hell - _bitter chocolate_ wafting enticingly from the open doors. 

_Just get home already._ She urged.

Now that the sun slipped below the horizon. **Everything** seemed to want to pull her back to the memory of Fortuna Castle. Beckoning to her with the mental images of elegant fingers and an unholy smirk. 

_Think of something else._

Thoughts of a nice hot shower to rinse away the chill. Anticipation of some cheap booze eating away the lining of her throat. A greasy, heart clogging lasagna filling her empty, rumbling stomach.

She pushed through the doors to the stairs, taking two at a time in an effort to marathon rush her way back to her safe haven. ____ jogged up the stairs as if hellhounds were chasing after her. Lungs burned from lack of oxygen. Calves rippled in pain from lactic acid buildup. Her hair was plastered to her neck in sticky strands as her blood pumped furiously through her body, running her hot and sweaty.

Fingers kept slipping the key past the lock. She growled and forced herself to steady long enough so she could get in. She couldn’t get in fast enough, couldn’t bolt the door quickly enough.

But once she stumbled in, the adrenaline wore off. She sighed and slumped to the floor, pressing her back to the front door. Shoulders heaved up and down, chest expanding to accommodate all the air she was greedily gulping down. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them.

A soft, shuddering sigh into the dark.

“I’m okay here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V is always on the edge of our minds, even when we don't hear a peep from him - shivers.  
Until Next Time ~


	8. It Begins Anew…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you sweetlings~ 
> 
> Are you ready? Let's keep going.

### It Begins Anew… 

That paralyzing moment passed. She began to breathe easier. The iron grip fear that squeezed her heart slowly eased away as she began to calm.

_It’s safe. I’m safe._ ____ repeated to herself over and over.

Holding her breath in anticipation, she flicked the lights on.

Click.

Smiling, she heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief when the familiar sights of her living room and kitchen flooded her vision. Just the way she left it. A self-deprecating chuckle bubbled from her lips as she breathed in deeply. The scent of home. A comforting mix of the lingering scent of strong coffee, gunpowder and the faint sweetness from the honeysuckle candles and perfume she owned. _No bitter chocolate or anything earthy. **Just home…**_ The gnawing ache of having her shoulders cinched back in tension ebbed away. A weight lifted from her shoulders and the strain that coiled her muscles taut melted away from her body, leaving her more limber and relaxed. 

Eyes roved over the shoebox of an apartment she called home. Meticulously examining everything. Trying to place everything she owned and its placement and compared it to her memory. Everything seemed to still be in their proper place. She searched every nook and cranny. No weird notes or any odd ‘present’ left for her to find. Nothing that indicated someone rummaged around in her sparsely furnished abode. Although, there wasn’t much to rummage through anyways. The apartment was _tiny_.

Literally, every single apartment in this building was nothing more than a rectangular claustrophobic’s worse nightmare. A cramped box of a living room with something that passed for a kitchen jammed in the corner and a door that led to a tinier bedroom and bathroom. She recalled how she felt when first moving in, thinking that she’d have more space if she lived in a shipping container instead.

Her lips quirked in amusement at the memory, as she gave one more glance over at the only few pieces of furniture that took up precious space her living room.

The ratty couch she salvaged from a second hand store, along with the scratched up faux wood coffee table were in their proper place. The coffee table still had her neatly stacked boxes of bullets and her weapons maintenance kit still half open. The cheap metal dining table and its two mismatched chairs was still in its corner by the kitchen. 

All fine here.

She moved to check the cabinets in the kitchen. Nothing strange either. There was only her mismatched dishes, cups and cutlery and some boxes of cookies that were expired. And her one shelf devoted entirely to her penchant for whiskey and bourbon. 

And of course nothing out of the ordinary in her fridge as well. Only the usual case of water, some leftovers and an opened can of condensed milk and a half bag of sugar. “…Really need to buy groceries at some point…” She mumbled to herself, noticing how woefully empty the fridge was. She just never bothered though, because she was hardly home enough to eat everything before it spoiled.

A thought occurred to her. Was it too paranoid to wonder if someone laced the meager items in her fridge with drugs? Should she just check? On the heels of that thought, she wracked her brains, wondering if she should check the bedroom for cameras as well? Was that going too overboard? 

“Maybe it’s overkill…” A hand ruffled her hair in slight exasperation.

Her brain helpfully reminded her, that she never had revealed exactly where in Enamel she lived. And even though he had her name, the nature of how the information business was run in Enamel City would be sure to halt any unwanted inquires stone cold. The thoughts in her head ticked on…

Any personal information on any resident that lived in Enamel City had a special need to know basis restriction. Hunters _especially_ paid the local authorities and mobs top dollar for the freedom to suppress any rumors and information about themselves. It was one thing to have a fearsome reputation for killing demons; that brought in the cash. Quite another thing, to have some angry client out to bully for a refund or some glory seeker looking to cash in fame for taking a Hunter down. Helpful misdirection was a godsend and worth every penny.

And the perks of paying for the extra measures? Information leaked on a Devil Hunter that operated from Enamel City, usually meant that the idiot that told more than was wise was guaranteed to be fucked up by the angry Hunter in question without anyone batting an eye. The law turned its eye and let ‘justice’ be served. In whatever way the offended Hunter wanted. Privacy was a valued commodity here in the city. Privacy and _security._ Again, another reminder for why she put up living in a seedy city like this. 

Even with all this, she always erred on the side of caution. Only operating from one base. The Flash Point Bar. While the jobs there weren’t as lucrative as what some of the other bars received; it had a steady stream of loyal clients that she could tolerate and what she got, usually paid well enough to cover her necessities. She specifically chose this bar in particular because the owner, the old dog - Billy - was as tight lipped as can be. 

Because...Billy had his vocal cords ripped out in a knife fight in his youth before he became the owner of Flash Point. There would be no slip ups; accidental or intentional; from him, guaranteed.

____ was safe as can be; she took great pains to make sure of it.

Rolling the ache out of her shoulders, she made her way to the bathroom. A long hot shower was just what she needed to forget about today.

Those first heart pounding, tense and fitful couple nights melted blissfully into a more relaxed week. As each day passed in relative safety, the tight noose of paranoia around her loosened further and further. And though she knew it was probably premature, she couldn’t help but feel that the nightmare was passing away like smoke on a wind. Things were falling back into the routine she’s grown accustomed to. 

Relief. Blessed, relief.

And so, one week exactly since that fateful night Morrison called, she decided to perhaps just go and celebrate. _Like an anniversary._ She chuckled to herself, her mood so much more lighter now that she wasn’t jumping at every single noise and shadow.

A quick trip to Flash Point it is. While there, she may as well turn in those materials she’s scavenged for that retrieval mission she accepted two days prior. It had been a very odd mission, she’d taken it because no one else seemed to want it. It was a request for some unusual parts...demon parts to be exact, for some experiment or other by the poster. She supposed though, that the reason no one took it, was because it required a little hunting in the strange root and demon infested Red Grave. But a job was a job and it ended up being a piece of cake to complete.

She found a seat, crushed into the far corner of the counter. Billy slid a tumbler of whiskey for her the moment she sat down and took the wrapped items she brought back with the mission slip. She knocked the glass down quick, throwing her head slightly back in bliss as the alcohol burned its way down to her stomach and spread to her frozen fingertips and toes.

Much, much better.

She savored the second glass pushed towards her. Letting it sit on her tongue, stinging it with the fiery notes of black pepper that was chased down by the hint of sweetness from caramel. This was quite a pleasant surprise. Billy gave her something from the top shelf today. She hummed into her glass for another slow, drawn sip.

Above her, a TV blared with the evening’s news. ____ listened with half an ear. This was old news. The current topic was something that the stations had been replaying over and over all week. She doubted they had any new information to share.

“—Yet another victim found on the east road out of Enamel City. This brings the count of victims up to six. Murdered in the same brutal and gruesome manner as the others. Authorities have not released any statement, citing that the case is still open and under investigation. Therefore nothing can be shared due to risk. Creative writers following the case have started calling these strings of homicides, the ‘Enamel City Ripper’ serial killings. Citizens are urged to come forward with any information that may help identify this serial killer. More to come -“

“Fucks sake - Enamel City Ripper, really?” A patron drunkenly complained with derision from behind before slurping from their glass noisily.

“It’s got a nice ring.” Someone answered with a sleepy voice. “-Soundsh fancy.”

“The news is so pointless. Yeah so some crazy killer is going around ripping people to pieces. So what? We see way worse from the mobs around here.”

“Oh shut up, if everything is worse around the city then go do something instead of sitting on your fat ass talking shiiit.”

The table behind her began to bicker loudly, devolving into slurs of unintelligible insults. No one gave them a second glance. This was a typical day.

____ glanced from the corner of her eye as a slightly older woman slid into the seat next to her, grinning familiarly at her. 

“Well, well if it isn’t my favorite munchkin.” Bright red lips curved at her into a teasing smile.

“Surprised you’re not out crawling for a boy toy tonight C.” ____ answered in the same vein, putting her glass down and turning in her seat to get a better look at her friend. She propped an arm on the counter and leaned her chin onto her fist. It had been quite some time since her favorite con-artist visited Enamel City. She wondered, what type of shenanigan had C been up to for her to come crawling back here? _I bet she pissed off some rich wife by fucking the husband, and now she’s here to lay low._ ____ wouldn’t be surprised.

C, short for Cecilia, waved a hand dismissively and instead snatched the half empty glass of whiskey and finished it off in one thirsty gulp. “I spent a month on the Amalfi coast and now I’m spoiled.” She complained, motioning to Billy for two more glasses. “There’s not a good looking enough meat of a man here to get me going anymore.” Cecilia flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and pouted those red lips at her unsympathetic friend. “You could say I got a taste of the finer things in life, I can’t go back to the scraps I used to get anymore. This city is a dump.”

“Listen to yourself. Better be careful or else everyone will start mistaking you for a stuck up noble’s trophy whore.” ____ sneered good naturedly.

“Better than being a two-bit midget Hunter who’s broke all the time. At least I can afford a vacation.”

The two women clinked their glasses together and finished off their shots in one swallow. Their banter had no real heat to it, it was just their customary greetings to each other, born from nearly a decade’s worth of friendship and familiarity. These two held the other with a healthy mix of regard, fondness and rivalry. 

As they drank themselves into a happy mood, Cecilia regaled ____ with her misadventures of the past month. The leggy brunette just returned from a vacation to the tourist popular Amalfi port town. She gushed at how it had been the perfect hot spot. The smells of citrus and sea salt permeated everything. The city – the people! Amalfi was filled to the brim with rich men that looked like they belonged on the cover of magazines looking for whores to conquer. Women dripping in finery trawled the beaches, luring younger men in to satisfy their needs. And for Cecilia especially - given her sticky fingers and penchant for swindling gullible travelers, ____ listened as she boasted her newest con of the year. The Seer of Fatima, she introduced with a great flourish, making ____ snort into her drink at the absurdity of it. 

Cecilia wagged her eyebrows and leaned in close, eager to impart yet another bit of juicy gossip. Her voice dropped to a low whisper.

“I also heard from a mark that the Vatican was raided as well. Something about old books being stolen from their vaults. I bet it’s worth a hefty sum on the Underground.

____ tuned her out as Cecilia began to plot about how to acquire such a book and what she would do with the profits from selling it to a private collector. Same old Cecilia, her only goals in life seemed to be revolved around sex and money. And the finer things in life now, apparently. She shook her head, after all these years, ____ was just more amazed that Cecilia hadn’t picked up some sort venereal disease, or been poisoned by a jealous wife.

“____! Come on, daydream when you get home! You’re supposed to be entertaining me here!” Came in incessant whine in her ear.

“Now what is it?” Was the exasperated response.

Cecilia tsk’d and prodded at ____’s shoulder with a perfectly manicured finger. “I was asking what’s up with the Enamel City Ripper case on the news?”

The young Hunter traced a finger around the rim of her glass absentmindedly, trying to recall all the details she managed to pick up here and there from eavesdropping. “A few days ago, someone reported a homicide. From what I heard, the crime scene was insane. Like someone dumped a slaughterhouse all over. It literally looked like someone ripped the guy limb from limb with his bare hands and just threw all the parts wherever he wanted. And apparently, the psycho went and also painted everything nearby in the dead victim’s blood. Took the term bloodbath literally. And now there’s been six of those so far. Although the first one had been the messiest and nastiest to clean up.” 

____ frowned into her empty glass, mulling over the other piece of information she conveniently omitted. She had been hauled in for questioning the day of the first murder victim had been found. Thank god Billy had been able to prove her alibi. She was out on a mission and just barely got back before she was cuffed right in this bar and hauled in for questioning. But the law had been keeping a close eye on her comings and goings still. Still convinced that she was a prime suspect.

Only because…the first victim had been one of the loan sharks aggressively harassing her. The rest of the victims however, she had no connection to. Everything seemed to be random at this point of the investigation. And the officers got extremely cranky at having to lose what could have been the perfect suspect. ____ considered the idea of just skipping town until this died down. She wasn’t looking forward to having to prove her absences every damned time she left for a mission.

Cecilia lingered for one more drink and merrily left, kissing ____ on both cheeks. “See you again soon.”

____ left shortly as well. There was a pleasant warmth buzzing in her brain and she wanted to enjoy it at home before it wore off. Humming tunelessly, she walked home – enjoying the slight bite of the cold night. The whiskey shots she consumed in great quantity buffered her from the chill. 

She felt more at peace tonight. Seeing an old friend who reminded her that there were places still to explore that wasn’t Fortuna Castle made her steps lighter. The shadows no longer seemed so menacing, and the whispers of paranoia in her ear were blessedly muted. ____ felt grateful for Cecilia’s visit. She felt as if she had not laughed so freely, had not felt so unburdened in so long.

She survived.

And that freedom never tasted so sweet in all her life.

Even the long trek up the stairs didn’t seem so terrible today. 

“Home sweet home.” She cheered to herself.

The keys jangled in her hands as she turned the lock and flipped on the switch.

… …

She closed and locked the door behind her. There was a bottle on her coffee table. Did Cecilia drop this off earlier for her? She sometimes did that, bring her souvenirs from the exotic places she visited and leaving them in her apartment. Fingers lifted up the bottle, the label on it screamed expensive. She turned the bottle around but didn’t see a note or card. Eyes skimmed the label again, her heart stuttered in surprise. This particular bottle of bourbon ran well over _five figures_! How in the hell did C managed to get her hands on this?

Her phone vibrated.

Intuition hit her in the gut, ____ felt her heart drop to the floor. An all too familiar dread trickled down from head to toe. She lowered her eyes to her phone.

_”Do you like my gift? I always knew you had fine taste. A girl after my own heart.”_

Fingers quickly tapped on the screen. _”WHO is this?”_

The reply was instantaneous. _”Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to. You’re smarter than that ____.”_ She could hear the teasing lilt in her ears now. ____ didn’t dare confirm it though. It couldn’t...there were only a handful of people that she gave her number to. 

_”If this is a joke – this isn’t funny!”_ This had to be a prank right? ...only her logical side whispered fearfully, none of them had a taste for sick humor like this.

_”Oh sweet ____, I never joke when it comes to you.”_

Ice skittered down her spine. She thought she smelt the rich darkness of his scent all around her. Suffocating her.

_ “You look so exhausted, why not enjoy a glass and take a breather?” _ It sounded so mocking.

_ “I’m enjoying a glass myself. Thinking about how lovely it would be to taste it on your tongue. Or better yet…the sting of the bourbon in your mouth would feel wonderful on my cock. It would burn sooo good.” _

____ dropped her phone on the coffee table and began rushing to close every window in her apartment. She flipped on every single light she had, flooding every dark corner with bright artificial light in a vain attempt to chase the shadows away. She quickly found that there was nothing else in here but her panicking.

Her phone continued to chime in the living room, beckoning to her.

Shaking hands picked it up again.

_ “There’s nothing to be afraid of, you’re nice and safe in your own home sweet _____. All alone.”_

_ “You’ll be my naughty girl won’t you?” _

_ “Touch that pretty pussy for me. I want to see you make that cunt cream on your fingers…”_

____ angrily typed in her response. _“You’re a sick fuck. Leave me alone!” _

_ “Don’t be like that, you’ll hurt my feelings.” _

_ “You’re going to get more than just hurt if you keep messing with me!” _

_ “How precious, all puffed and angry with false bravado. I can see you shaking like leaf.”_

Knees buckled beneath her, her face twisted in an expression of disbelief and terror. 

_ “Mmm that’s it right there, that delicious face. The things you do to me ____.”_

“Please stop this…” She whispered. Her lips quivered and she felt a wetness sting her eyes. ____ felt as if a trap had just clicked closed around her. 

_ “Oh but the fun is just beginning. Sweet dreams little lamb. I’ll be thinking of you.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it begins again. 
> 
> Fun fact, I keep getting so many damned telemarketers calling at all hours of the night. But lately it's been freaking me out because of this very chapter. Lol - I'll just hide under my quilts and make the hubby check the doors and windows for me.
> 
> Until next time~


	9. Work and Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what I hear when I think of V lounging in the dark thinking filthy thoughts of you. Just the right touch of creepy with elegance. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdCVQ3lc0Bc [Shin Megami Tensei Nocturne - Demon World Master]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's peek in on what our favorite deranged poet has been up to after those texts. Also do I apologize for how horny he gets from thinking of you? No I do not, and you can't make me :P I think I'm starting to earn those filthy tags I placed for this fic heehee~
> 
> Also all that stuff with the occult and the books, I took some inspiration from Lovecraft and Shadow Hearts but I'm also pulling information out of nowhere for the atmosphere lol. Just saving you a google trip.

### Work and Play

“Come out, come out wherever you are…”

Her body trembled violently. She bit down on her hand hard enough to stifle her moans of terror, leaving white crescents of her teeth in the soft tanned skin. The soft, rhythmic tapping of a metal cane on the pavement echoed in the night. It was too difficult to tell how close he was getting. Her breaths steamed through her fingers into the chilled air.

Swallowing thickly, she made a break for it. Dashing out from her pitiful hiding place behind an alley dumpster. Oh, why did she stupidly decide to attempt her way home through the alleys tonight of all nights? She never ever did such a thing, it was too unsafe. And now she was deeply regretting it as this _demon_ chased her around like a cat toying with its meal, prolonging the inevitable.

Feet slapped on the pavement in a frenzied staccato.

Her heart pounded furiously in her throat, making her almost gag at the sensation. Blood rushed furiously through her ears, she can’t hear her pursuer anymore over how loud it is. Lungs burned from the need for oxygen - there’s not enough air trickling into her body. But the icy air of the night keeps catching in her throat, leaving her weak and lightheaded. She gasped painfully, holding her side as it cramped. The puffs of hot air that condense from her lips into the night air grow fainter and fainter. 

It’s only the wild fear surging in her blood that is keeping her going now. The sheer terror of what will happen to her if she stops drives her hard. 

“You can run but you can’t hide.”

The taunt rang in her ears, burrowing deeply, into her brain. The fear churned in her thoughts, _insidiously_ whispering that he was closing in. No escape for her now. He sounded far, far too close for comfort. Her legs start to cramp but she pushed herself to keep running. Her sense of awareness narrowed down to just her broken string of thoughts. Must not stop! Don’t look back! **Please just let her escape!**

Trembling hands frantically pushed at the garbage cans that lined the streets, tipping everything over in an attempt to slow down her relentless pursuer. God, how long had she been running now? Even with the bursts of fear and adrenaline, she could feel herself losing strength, starting to slow down. How much longer can she keep running?

“Oh God!...please…” The half-finished plea slipped from her as a desperate hiss into the night.

She darted into an alley and nearly falls to her knees in tears when it’s a dead end. A clink of metal echoes from behind her. There is nowhere else to run. She gasped when chilled fingers curl over her mouth and a tattooed arm, strong as steel wraps around her torso, pinning her arms to her side tightly. Tears trickle down her face. She tasted the salt stinging her cracked lips. A choked whimper of fear hitched in her throat.

She prayed to whatever deity is kind enough to listen to her. But her gut tells her there is no one listening and **no one cares**. The realization that she’s on her own makes her blood freeze. Why her? She had done nothing so terrible to deserve this fate – shouldn’t that count for something?

“My, my. It appears our time is about to come to an end.” A dark voice purred silkily into her ear.

The cultured drawl is not what she expected. It makes this man even more terrifying.

She shivered violently, it was the voice of Death.

The hunter pressed his soft prey, face first into the dirty wall. Caging her. She’s unable to move even when he pulls his arms away. Why? Paralyzed from fear? She doesn’t know. Can only scream internally when she realized her vocal cords are frozen as well. No one can hear her. She isn’t even given the small comfort of audibly expressing her terror.

He hummed in amusement, his chest vibrating against her back. His breath is hot on her clammy neck. Those hands move to grip hers in an iron, unyielding grip. She finally finds her voice, begging to this cruel monster to let her go as he stretches her arms up high, placing her palms almost gently against the wall. Her head shook side to side in disbelief as he suggestively rolls his hips in hers. Fear that this monster will rape and kill her has her thrashing and squirming, the curve of her ass unintentionally grinding against his hardening cock.

“Please – please don’t!”

_”Be silent._ I prefer to enjoy my meals in peace.” He growls in her ear in annoyance. “Now behave, or else.”

She sobs even harder but complies with the command.

He lightly, teasingly traced the curve of her neck with the tip of his nose, breathing in the soft and gentle scent of her floral perfume. The poor thing was trembling so much. Sharp eyes glitter in malicious delight. 

She screams! Voice ringing into the night. 

And still…no one cares. Everyone has studiously averted their eyes and covered their ears. See no evil, hear no evil…**speak no evil.** No one who values their lives will break this code.

“Oh..God…” She wailed in pain. Her hands…her hands! This monster speared two wickedly sharp knives through her palms and into the wall. Her legs gave out beneath her, but the hot metal pierced through her hands still kept her suspended in place. She can feel the muscles and tendons shred as the knives hold all her weight.

A quiet, strangled sob escapes her lips as white hot pain seared her through the side now. The sharp bite of yet another cold metal knife slowly sawed into her, carving her up like a dinner ham. Tears slip faster now. It amuses the vicious and savage beast toying with her. Blood flowed down her sides, down her legs; scalding hot and sticky. Shame overcame her fear for a moment when she realized that part of the warm liquid trickling down her legs was also from her losing control of her bladder. It’s disgusting, her blood and urine soiling her and the ground below.

Was this really how it will end for her?

“What a filthy girl.” The beast snarled in contempt into her ear.

She jolted, pressing into the wall further as another line of pain punctured her through her ribs. Her mouth opened in silent agony. A detached part of her vaguely realized that the knife must have surely reached into her lung. There is a strange wetness to her ragged breaths. Drool fell in strings from the corners of her lips, tinged pink in blood. She can taste copper in the back of her throat. Her nerves shrieked in pain as the knife continued to split through her viciously. Every moment of pain drags on into its own eternity for her. It hurts so much! When will it end!?

She felt teeth pressing sharply at her throat. A mouthful of knives ripped into her, blood sprayed hotly into her predator’s mouth, cloyingly sweet over his tongue. Her blood coats all over the wall and the front of her clothes. Her pitiful cries died as a wet gurgle in her mangled throat. Her vision blurred and dipped in strange ways. She struggled to hold onto awareness, but it starts to unravel from her. A strange giddiness makes her head float – not much longer now…

There is an awful crunch. A sharp, blinding pain tore through her from her neck and down that faded away into a gentle tingle at her extremities. Then finally, she felt herself float away from the pain at last. Her only last coherent thought – was the realization that he’s snapped her neck.

V earnestly lapped his fingers clean and drags his tongue across his lips to catch any remaining drops; appearing for all purposes, very much like a well fed and sated panther. His feral eyes gleamed hotly from his meal. There is blood still dripping down his chin, and splattered all over his arms and chest. His belly is warm and content. 

This pretty little morsel should satisfy his cravings for now. 

It’s not his little lamb of course. (He saves that pet name for only her now.) But as far as his food went, this nameless brunette had been quite satisfying. A rather tasty bit of prey - much more enjoyable than his last few meals. His prey even had enough consideration to give him quite a chase, letting him work up an appetite. He doesn’t bother to stifle his moans of ecstasy when he drained her rapidly cooling body of her magic. She has plenty and the gnawing Hunger finally quiets for the time being.

He flits away from the scene with Shadow, quieter than a specter into the night to return home. The body lays in the dark alleyway, forgotten like discarded trash. Eyes wide and unseeing in unimaginable fright.

Home sweet home. V felt amusement curling through him at the thought. A wave of his hand allowed him to pass through the wards he’s set up for security. The interior of the manor had finally been redecorated to his tastes; wonderfully gothic, masculine and lavished with all the fineries money could buy; everything he’s grown accustomed to, is here at his fingertips. Feeling right at home, he silently stalked through towards the master bedroom, intent on treating himself to a luxurious soak in a steaming hot bath. Washing away the evidence of his nature as a hungry beast.

The gentle scent of honeysuckle from the candles he’s lit perfumes the air. The heady scent goes straight to his head and makes his body thrum pleasantly. His eyes flutter close as he sinks in a little deeper into the bath. It’s a poor substitute for his lamb, but V enjoys it nonetheless. Soon enough, he will have her here, where she belonged.

As the norm now, the barest thought of his sweet lamb stirs his cock. He chuckled to himself, knowing that the day when he will be able satiate himself fully with her delectable body is fast approaching. _Soon, so very, very soon._ He reminds himself. Just a little more patience and planning. The anticipation is what makes the hunt so delicious after all; there is nothing quite like spicing his prey with a healthy dose of fear. A pleased hum rumbled in his chest as he mentally tugged at the link to his familiar, Griffon. Images of his lamb filter into his mind, crisp and clear as day.

Seeing through his familiar’s eyes, V watched her tossing and turning in her bed. The light by her bed casts her in a dim yellow glow. A faded quilt is wrapped tightly around her. How precious. Was his little lamb afraid of the dark? _Or afraid that I’m there waiting for her?_ He bared his teeth in a sharp grin, feeling quite titillated at the thought of her curling in fear from him.

It had been so laughably easy to set up surveillance on his lamb. So easy in fact that V felt rather cheated. Disguising Griffon as a common city crow and having the demon trail after her…and being able to see second hand through his familiar’s eyes, exactly what his little prey was up to. Through this method, V discovered the location of her home. Gleaned information about her from glimpses of her daily routines. She was a busy little thing. So many shops and _friends_ to visit. Even the most paranoid of Hunters, had a routine. And V made judicious use of Griffon to memorize hers, down to the last minute detail.

Nothing escaped his notice.

And V always prided himself for being meticulous.

Through Griffon, V learned just how much his little lamb had been thinking of him. He was immensely pleased by that; she is **always** on his mind nowadays.

“____.” He rolled her name sinuously. Savoring it. _Perfect, perfect ____._

Water sloshed against the porcelain as he shifted.

His hands lightly stroked himself, sending frissons of electrifying pleasure radiating up his spine. It was madness, how this slip of a girl made him achingly rock hard from just the mere thought of her. V licked his lips, already fantasizing of what he’d do if she was here right now. He’d have her riding him hard, gripping his shoulders for dear life. The water would rock and swirl like a tempest around them, and she would be crying his name oh so sweetly. _Beg for me ____..._ He would wrap his lips and teeth around those perky nipples. His hot tongue laving and swirling around those stiffened peaks would be sure to drive her wild in lust. His hands would fill fully with her lush ass, spreading them far so he could drive himself deeper and deeper.

V moaned shamelessly, thrusting up desperately into his hand. Wanting the slickness of the water to be the sweet cream dripping from her cunt. His fingers tightened. He would have her screaming his name over and over until she was hoarse. His cock will rip through her pussy, forcing her to stretch and accommodate his wide girth. _And she will love it._ She’ll be a good girl and take all of him and beg for more.

His other hand reached to fondle the heavy sac beneath his cock. His fantasy had him imagining the frantic fluttering of her cunt around him. A thumb swiped over the head of his cock, feeling that it was weeping furiously with precum. V would make sure that her pretty little cunt would be stuffed full to the brim with every thrust. She would be so eager, so hungry for it.

His body tensed as he quickened his rhythm, straining hard as he chased after his orgasm. Oh, and when he was close, he will pull her off and force her to finish the job by blowing him while submerged under water. A dark grin of satisfaction spread across his lips as he came hard to that last image. She would frantically claw at his thighs and hips, struggling for air as he forced her to bring him to completion while denying her the luxury of air.

He can imagine the lingering terror in her eyes, mixed with arousal when she resurfaced. Her body would tremble in his arms and she would part her lips, letting the cum and drool drip down her chin alluringly. 

“My little lamb…how perfect you would be.” He purred in contentment.

V lazed around in the cooling water for a while longer. Enjoying the visions of his lamb huddled in her bed, trying to do her best to ignore the needles that prickled her instincts. How he savored her fear. So much finer and headier than any wine he could buy.

After a bit of light dozing, V sighed as he finally pulled himself out of the tub. He patted himself dry with a fluffy towel and shrugged on silk pajama bottoms. The slickness of the silk brushing against his oversensitive cock had him hissing in pleasure with every step.

He still had quite a bit of work to do about the Émigré Manuscript. Settling himself back at the work desk in the room he designated as his study, he flipped through the pages, back to where he’s left off.

The copy he possessed was a mere translation, the original having been lost to time. Or if the rumors were true; the original was sealed deep, deep within the vaults of the Vatican and protected by holy magic. Many magicians and occultists sought the translation over centuries. And who could blame them? It was filled with forbidden knowledge of _soul magic_. It was filled with the knowledge that went against the laws of God.

And only made possible because centuries ago, a heretical cult of Druids who worshipped one of the Primordial Gods – Formor – sacrificed hundreds of innocents over the course of a full year to bring down their God in exchange for this forbidden knowledge. Every word, scribed in their blood, bound with the flesh of their own children – everything was surrendered to this dark god. In return, they were given magic beyond their wildest dreams…and control.

Ever since its creation, this particular tome has caused more bloodshed than all the World Wars put together. So many foolish magicians who held their meager skills too high with arrogance found themselves paying the ultimate price for dabbling with something beyond them. So many of the evil that lurked and roamed free in the world was the result of the rituals gone disastrously wrong from those who attempted it incorrectly.

While an interesting read, V found himself frustrated by the lack of information on repairing a broken soul fragment or simply just creating a new one. One would think, that a tome filled solely with formulas and rituals on soul magic would have more than just recipes for calling a soul into a vessel of their choosing. _How terribly unoriginal. They call on a God and this is all they ask for?_ He sneered.

If the consequence of recalling the other soul fragment to him didn’t result in him merging back to Vergil, he would do it here and now. 

But V had absolutely no intentions however, of relinquishing his own body and freedom. Vergil can go rot in hell for all he cared. 

Long elegant fingers drummed against the crumbling book thoughtfully. He would have to come up with another way it seems. His sharp mind whirled through his vast knowledge of the occult. A faint whisper of another theory snagged his attention. If recovering a soul was not an option and crafting a new one was out of the question…

_**What about binding his soul to another to tether his existence more fully?**_

Curious, he pulled another tome he pilfered from the Devil May Cry library towards him. It wasn’t as if the fool Dante would ever notice it missing anyways. And the rare tomes were wasted on that oaf. He flipped through several chapters, skimming the titles and lines. Seeking for the tiny footnote of yet another forbidden tome.

There… 

The tip of his finger traced the miniscule text. 

De Vermis Mysteriis – a book on summons and **binding contracts**. 

V opened a notebook and flipped to a fresh page. His pen glides across in elegant loops and swirls as he jots down the skeleton of the plan forming slowly in his mind. If his familiars’ existence is tied to his, their survival _dependent_ on his…might not the same concept be applied to his own fragmented soul? 

“It appears I have quite a bit of…experimenting to do…” And so much more hunting for little guinea pigs to experiment on. 

How delightful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew - V is insatiable.  
Raise your hand, how many of you thought the Jane Doe in the beginning was you? :3
> 
> Until Next Time sweetlings~ I do dearly appreciated all the love and time you've spent so far on this journey with me :)


	10. Under Your Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack for this chapter: I need to just start making a playlist at this rate.  
Note - I can't remember if I posted the link to the censored MV but, in the case that I didn't. This MV is dark and NSFW.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvh0kF-ISCk [JJ Lin - Sha Shou]  
BTW - can I say the parts where he twists and struggles in his handcuffs - that glaring expression is insanely hot. 
> 
> Here's one with the translation on the vid but its not that great quality https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyAiG9H3q8w

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for Madness. I swear, I am trying to work on Interludes and Contract too but every time I open those docs, I just wanna write more crazy stalker V. 
> 
> Let's enjoy more filth sweetlings~
> 
> One tiny, tiny edit on 08.14.19.

### Under Your Skin

V adored her resiliency.

Even after terrifying her thoroughly last night, she stubbornly - defiantly - continued to go about her day, bravely acting as if nothing was amiss, to spite him. His chuckles rumble deeply in his chest as he watched her resolutely follow through her established routine. By now, knowing fully well that normalcy was how she coped with the things that unsettled and unbalanced her. Reaching for the familiarity to wrap around her for security. For comfort.

Even if it rang false. She clung to it tenaciously.

He found himself admiring her for it, even if it was foolish to pretend that all was fine. It was akin to ignoring a very dangerous panther pacing hungrily in the unlocked cage. With her back turned to it, trying to pretend that if it was out of sight, it was not happening.

“Such stubborn pride, my little lamb.”

Now there she was by her well used coffee maker. Fingers tapping in a disjointed rhythm of impatience and nervousness as she waited for the machine to sputter out the rest of the caffeinated brew she relied on to function. No doubt she made it much stronger than her usual preference, given that she hardly slept a wink last night. The skin beneath her eyes were dark and bruised. Her eyes were skittish, darting wildly around. Fingers slightly trembled as she poured herself a generous cup, two large spoonfuls of condensed milk stirred in, and leaned on the kitchen counter taking small measured sips. It was scalding after all.

From Griffon’s vantage point, V could see her mind whirling busily away. The little frown that creased her brows and the downturn of her lips as she stood in deep concentration. She gazed into her cup like chess master examining her board carefully, trying to map out every outcome that could possibly happen. Trying hard to anticipate what her opponent would do next. He wondered what was going through her thoughts right now, at this very moment? Was she thinking on that delightful exchange last night? Mmmn, that crumpled expression her face last night still made his blood boil with lighting hot lust. To see the resignation, to watch her succumb to the truth that she was still wrapped up deeply in his games.

Exquisite pain.

He smiled slyly as a look of fierce determination crossed her sweet face, was she perhaps working on her counter strategy to the new level he’s brought this game to? V hoped that she put some thought into whatever plan was shaping in her head. It would be no fun if she proved unimaginative.

“What ever will you do now sweet thing?” He purred to himself, folding his arms beneath his head as he lounged indolently in his king sized bed. Eyes hooded and half closed. She knows that her home isn’t the safe sanctuary she wanted it to be. “Poor thing must feel so…_violated_…”

He ran the tip of his tongue across the edges of his teeth. His expression feral and hungry as he continued to observe her through Griffon’s eyes. She bottled the rest of the coffee into a thermos and left it on the countertop before disappearing into the bedroom. His familiar quickly hopped from the window of the living room to perch on the sill of the one that overlooked her bed. Ah, he could see that the bathroom door was opened halfway. Steam curled through the crack enticingly. What V wouldn’t give to be seeing her dripping in water as she tried to wash off the clammy sweat from last night.

What V wouldn’t give to ram his cock hard into her clenching heat right now, as the hot water rained down on them, scalding their already heated bodies. Hearing her cries of his name echoing off the walls and through the thin walls of her apartment for everyone to hear. Better not start up again. He lightly reprimanded himself. As delightful as it was to continuously indulge himself in his fantasies, he was already too sensitized and raw from trying to satisfy the constant state of arousal she left him in. Not to mention, the fantasies were starting to become less and less satisfying. The ache and need to have the real thing was starting to grow stronger.

But soon enough, it would not matter. _There would be no need for fantasizing when I have her here at last…_

She exited the shower after twenty minutes or so. Disappointingly wrapped in an oversized bathrobe that covered far too much for his liking. He’d have to get rid of that. He smirked as she looked nervously around her room again, before rummaging for her day clothes and scurrying back into the bathroom to dress. His lamb was so cautious today.

How…sensible of her.

Except that it didn’t matter since V could still track her every move.

She emerged minutes later in nearly the same ensemble as every other day. Simple, practical, functional. Boring. V wanted to see her draped in something finer. Something that accentuated those luscious curves of hers. Perhaps seeing her nipples stiffen and harden beneath the soft touch of silk? Something with a daring décolletage with a long chain of jewels to draw the eyes down to the valley of her perky tits and down to the planes of her belly? Or wrapped tantalizingly in a lacy and ribboned confection, for his hands and teeth to rip apart into shreds to reach the pretty, pretty gift beneath?

His teeth lightly grazed his bottom lip as he watched her hands pull those silky strands off her neck into a ponytail. Her soft, tender neck now bared and vulnerable to his hungry eyes. V wanted to nip a wreath of teeth marks into a ring of bruises all across that the soft flesh.

She would look delectable in a diamond and amethyst studded collar wrapped around that slender neck on top of that. And nothing else. Hmm…now _there_ was a thought.

His attention snapped back to reality as the front door clicked shut behind her. V wasted no time in unfolding himself out of his bed, relishing the feel of the silk sheets rasp gently across his bare skin as it pooled around his waist. His muscles stretched long and taut, eager for movement since he spent so long lazing about.

Time to get ready as well.

** \--------- **

True to V’s assessment, ____ only allowed safe, familiar thoughts to occupy her head as much as she was able. It was kind of an idiotic stubbornness that will most likely come back to bite her in the ass. But she couldn’t continue to function under a constant state of alertness. Trying to go about her day and missions with her jittery nerves made her too prickly and difficult to work with. Just look at what happened last week – she nearly lost a client because she snapped at him for simply saying hello and drawing his hand out for handshake. A _handshake_ for gods sake. She overreacted because he had tattoos all over the back of his hand. And it was enough to trigger the knee jerk impulse to break every single bone in those stubby fingers before it could even touch her. Good thing she didn’t. Her rent was due at the end of the week.

So she turned to the first source of comfort that popped in her brain.

Mother Teresa.

The matronly woman would be able to provide some semblance of comfort. She hoped.

“Back again so soon ____?” She smiled warmly at the young woman, pulling her shaking form into a long, long embrace. ____ heaved a shuddering sigh and let the scent of cheap harsh soap and peppermint oil sooth her frayed nerves. Teresa’s loving presence and home was a lone island in the middle of the shitstorm ____ found herself in. And she was grateful to at least have this to cushion her back to reality.

“I kinda felt a little starved today. What’cha cooking?”

“Your favorite of course. I’ll get the skillet on the stove and you can get the bacon.”

The smell of the fatty slices of bacon sizzling to a crisp in the chilly morning makes her mouth water. Given her occupation and her budget, she rarely had time for a home cooked meal anymore. The beat up stove top and oven were just decoration at this point and only utilized whenever she splurged for a party sized lasagna from the shady Italian diner up the street. Plus, it was that much more cost effective to just grab a bite from a fast food joint than to buy food that would spoil in her fridge before she could even cook with them. Her only true and wasteful indulgence was the alcohol to keep her warm and numbed.

Teresa watched the young Hunter with an expression of fond exasperation as she ravenously ate. “I remember the first time you showed up on my doorstep, over oh what was it…it must have been at least six years ago now. You were such a scrawny and angry looking thing, laying there, beaten half to death on my front porch. And imagine my surprise when you opened your mouth to tell me that you were here to return the purse some punk had taken from me in the market. And I remember thinking to myself, this little girl was insane for going after a man twice her size.”

____ chewed slowly, idly sucking the grease from a thumb. “I remember, that fucker made me so mad that he had the balls to steal from you in broad daylight like that. The least he could’ve done was pick someone that deserved it.” She growled between bites as she recalled that day herself.

Teresa looked just as she did now, a dumpy woman with the kindest face you ever saw; when she wasn’t busy scolding you that is. Everything about her was weathered by decades of hard work, the deep set wrinkles on her face came from smiles that spread far too freely and easily. Her back now hunched from her spine curving with age. There was nothing malicious about her. Even as a newcomer, back then, to Enamel City, she already heard of the woman’s saintly disposition and of the respect that she inspired. It rankled ____ that someone had been heartless enough to rob someone like the kindly old woman.

“You always had such a strong sense of justice that didn’t belong in Enamel City. You would have been much better off as a knight of the Order of the Sword you know.”

“Yeah well, look at how that turned out. I’m glad I chose to stay here. Besides moving to Fortuna would mean I’d have to miss out on your cooking.” She grinned.

Teresa swatted the back of her hand with a wooden spoon when she tried to reach for thirds. “That’s enough for you – you’re going to give yourself a heart attack!” She scolded.

____ grumbled but refrained from trying to wheedle for more. “I got the dishes, it’s my mess. You just hang tight Mother Superior.”

She spent the entire day with Teresa. Mostly doing minor repairs like replacing the doorknobs in all the rooms and bizarrely re-installing toilet paper holders in all the bathrooms. Just who in the hell went out of their way to steal paper toilet holders? ____ also did her best to fill in the cracks in the baseboards to help with the cold drafts, but a professional might have better luck. Still it had to be better than letting those things stay splintered open. Hopefully the house would stay a bit warmer now with her quick fixes.

She would have insisted on staying the night if Teresa didn’t force her back home. Stating that she’d done more than enough work around the rickety house.

“Plus it’s hump night. And I doubt you’re interested in listening to eight dirty old ladies reading erotica to each other.” Teresa wheezed, grinning at the pinched look of disgust that flashed across the Hunter’s face.

“That’s what I thought – now go home.” She said smugly.

Overhead, a crow cawed twice to the setting sun.

** After You Left in the Morning --------- **

V skimmed up the ten flights of stairs with Shadow beneath his feet. ____ would be gone for quite some time. And with Griffon tracking her every move, V would be able to have ample forewarning of her return and be gone with her none the wiser. Which meant that he was safe as can be to peek around to discover more about his lamb. He had an itch to uncover everything. Find any and every scrap of knowledge about her; her life, experiences, social circle, past lovers, fears, desires. Although his mouth tasted a soured jealousy at the thought of her taking another lover other than him.

_I will simply ensure that when all is said and done, she will be ruined for another man. It will be ONLY my name that she will remember. _ He promised darkly. 

It took no effort for V to pick at the lock of her door. The door swung outwards and a smirk curled his lips when he saw the near invisible wire glinting at the height his throat would have been. A faint sickly sweetness tickled his nostrils.

Well! It appears that his lamb had been busy while he daydreamed. V had not seen when she rigged up this little trap. Quite a show of foresight from her, even though it was still wholly ineffective. If V had been anyone else, they would have sliced themselves so gently with this fragile spider’s silk wire and poisoned themselves in the process and be none the wiser until the symptoms manifested. A glance down confirmed his suspicions - oh yes and there is one more at ankle height and at the height of his waist, in case the intruder was either shorter than the wire or had noticed it and thought themselves clever by ducking it.

Chuckling under his breath, he easily bypassed the wires, his cane easily snapping the threads, and slipped into to her domain. “You’re quite ingenious aren’t you? But you won’t outmatch me.” He applauded her efforts all the same because she was engaging in the game in new and unexpected ways that excited him. V has come to appreciate and expect her to respond to him in ways his other prey never did.

It made him snap and prickle in anticipation underneath his skin at just how damn thrilling his game became as she dared to challenge him.

He leaned on his cane and surveyed the little shoebox his lamb called home. Not very impressive though, he must say. Just like with her wardrobe, he clicked his tongue as he moved towards the middle of the living room. Minimalist and barely functional. The only thing that was of even remote interest to V in the living room and kitchen were the various types of ammunition she’s kept stacked on the coffee table and the haphazard pile of magazines on new weapons and the occult on the kitchen table.

And – oh yes, the rather impressive collection of half empty bottles of whiskey and bourbon she’s stashed in a cabinet. V isn’t surprised though to find that the highest priced bottle she’s owned hardly topped even three figures.

Did his little lamb make so little as a Hunter? She was skilled enough to afford more than this, surely. He tilted his head, pondering that thought for a moment. Or was she just incredibly frugal to the point where the only luxuries she’s allowed herself is just alcohol and her weapons upgrades?

V’s eyes noted the lack of personal effects. No pictures of family or friends or even of herself. No sentimental trinkets. Her entire living space so far proved sparse at best. Perhaps her bedroom then?

Done with the area for now, he stalked towards her bedroom. The place where the scent of honeysuckle was stronger. His lips twisted into a predatory smirk, now this was far more interesting.

Jars of candles, again scented with honeysuckle, littered the desk, the nightstand and even the bathroom. It was such a gentle and feminine scent, it reminded V of the vulnerability she tries to desperately hide from the harsh world. He wondered at the story behind the overwhelming preference for this particular scent. A childhood memory? Or perhaps it was no more than the fact that she found it soothing?

V raised an eyebrow when he spied a sketchbook on the desk. Fingers curiously flipped through the pages. They were all... half-finished schematics. Diagrams of different swords and guns scrawled across the pages. Some too fantastical to be even remotely viable as a weapon. And a few were very much within the realm of possibility, provided that she could hire a highly skilled weapons smith to craft it and find the right materials. Crammed in the corners were minuscule bullet points of ideas and descriptions of each one. Her writing was neat, but again as he was coming to associate her with now, functional. He noticed though that she pressed harder on the pages with her handwriting, ah…at least in this regards to this, she was forcing herself to be functional.

So, his little lamb fancied herself an inventor?

He flipped to the last page and felt a scorching pleasure spark within his brain.

“My, my…” He drawled, a fingertip lightly tracing the all too familiar whorls and swirls that mirrored on his body…exactly. There was a static between his finger and the page. A gleam of interest flared hotly in his eyes. “It appears that fear is not all that I inspire in you little lamb.”

Oh he knew there had been an undercurrent of fascination underneath all that delightful wariness; had practically smelled her desire when she first laid eyes on him and his unholy beauty. But to have that confirmed and revealed so fucking innocently, as a simple sketch of his tattoos for that matter – it made him tighten in response. The more she unintentionally revealed of herself to him, the more V wanted to have her. She was proving herself to be so much more than just an interesting bit of prey.

She’s caught his entire attention.

Made the predator _look_ at her as more than just a simple meal to toy with. More than just something to ease his boredom in between his research and endgame to destroy Vergil.

He chuckled darkly to himself, this little obsession was spiraling out of control, wasn’t it? V couldn’t remember the last time he’s been so entertained by anyone. Had never been so consumed with the thought of destroying and ripping apart someone’s life as much as he wanted to do with hers. Shred every attachment she had until only he was left.

His hand lightly traced the edge of her nightstand. A quick glance into the drawer made his smile sharpen. An innocuous little bottle of Brugmansia extract. The Angel’s Trumpet – my, how poetic. His little lamb kept surprising him at every turn.

“Paralysis, convulsions, fever, hallucinations, coma and death. Dear, dear ____ how you flatter me. Do I frighten you to the point that you would wish such a painful death upon me?”

First the poisoned wire trap and now this little treasure. His lamb was so, so precious he mused as he pocketed the bottle. A little repartee to express how amusing he found her warnings. Because they were just that – ineffective warnings to stay away from her.

Like he would ever do that now.

The second drawer held nothing of interest except for an old silver plated bracelet wrapped in a square of crushed velvet. The lettering engraved on the metal are well worn but V can make out her name as he brushed a thumb over the etchings. The loop is impossibly small for an adult – a childhood memento?

V stalked to settle himself onto her bed, wrapping himself tightly in the scent of her soft presence. Imagining her curled against him. Pinned and writhing beneath him. His nose buried into the pillows, inhaling in deeply and catching the faintest spice of cinnamon from the brand of whiskey she so favored.

He felt immensely pleased that he could not detect the scent of any other living soul besides his lamb. If he had – well…V knew where his next meal would’ve come from. He would have delighted in tearing apart another male limb from limb with excruciating and exact slowness for daring to touch what rightfully belonged to him. And he would force her to watch, a lesson to remind her of her place.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting her room in dim orange hues. He must have spent hours just perusing already.

“Curiouser and curiouser.” V noticed the lack of the Hunger pangs that usually would cripple him by now.

But the incessant emptiness that always demanded to be fed stayed muted in the back of his awareness. A hand idly traced nondescript patterns into the pillow. V would have to look into that. The Hunger was by no means calmed…but rendered…docile.

For now.

A tug from Griffon pulls him out of his thoughts. Reluctantly and with a great deal of annoyance, V extricated himself from the bed and exits the apartment.

He’s learned all he could from here.

Any other information will have to come from another source.

Night has fallen and V is long gone by the time ____ returns. She is very much aware of exactly who dared trespass into the one place she had fought so hard to make as safe as possible. Her curses at him only makes him huff in amusement.

V can’t resist giving her one more reminder for the day.

** \---------- **

The screen of her phone lights up again. A cold dread curled in her belly as she leaves it on the kitchen counter. Resolutely trying to ignore the urge to see what insanity is being sent to her now. But curiosity gets the better of her after she failed to distract herself from cleaning the buildup of oil and grime from her gun.

Dammit.

_”Did enjoy yourself today? I most certainly did.”_

_”It’s quite rude to ignore me little lamb. Perhaps I should teach you a lesson in proper manners.”_

Her blood freezes in her veins when a picture of Teresa with her circle of friends comes in crisp and clear as day. The women are laughing merrily, completely oblivious. Her hands clench her phone tightly – he would even ruin this for her too? It becomes all too clear that nothing is sacred in these little twisted games he is playing with her.

_”Look familiar?”_

_”I will kill you if you hurt them.”_

It’s an empty threat and they both know it.

_”Indulge me ____ and I will leave them be.”_ Comes the devil’s promise.

She wants desperately to say no. To tell him to fuck off and rot in hell. But she feels suffocated, because she can’t. **She won’t. **

_”Don’t look so upset, I promise you’ll enjoy this too.”_

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s angling for. Blood rushes hotly to her face in embarrassment and shame. Then she jolts when the phone begins to ring. The caller ID flashing ‘Unknown’.

Fingers shaking, she swipes to answer the call.

An all too familiar haunting lilt greets her silkily.

“Why, _hello there_.”

She can’t breathe. Can’t muster the courage to answer. Because hearing his voice confirms her suspicions and makes this nightmare real. But she is more distressed by how her body traitorously clenches in faint arousal from that dark purr.

“Nothing to say?” He mocks, relishing her silent unease. “My, perhaps I can do something about that.”

A click of something echoes. A gun?

“Wait – stop!” She pleads. “…please.”

“Please? How sweet, so you do have manners.” He teased.

He waits for her to say it. She knows he is probably deriving sick amusement at having her helpless like this. Like a cruel puppet master, he is the one holding her strings now.

“Don’t…don’t hurt them. I’ll…” She licked her lips, her mouth feels so dry. “…I’ll do whatever you want.” Finally capitulating. Nausea and anger sits bitterly on her tongue.

“And if I want you to kill them yourself?” He goaded, winding her emotions.

Fury crosses her face. “I will make your life hell before I kill you for good you sick fuck!” She hissed.

There is a quiet smug laughter in her ear, rich and dark. Indulgent. “You’ll have to make it worth my while sweet lamb. I know…” There is a sly twist to his words. “Why not give me a little show? I may be inclined to spare them for tonight if you are a good girl.”

She stiffened in shock. She had seen it coming but still…

“Post haste ____, I’m not a patient man.”

“Okay! I – I’ll do it…”

“That’s my girl. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in your bed?”

Her whole body is hot with mortification. And when she lays down, completely nude at his command, she catches the teasing scent of bitter dark chocolate and spice all over her pillows and sheets. His dark voice continues to purr instructions through her phone. A voice like crushed velvet murmuring filthy things to her. She has no choice but to obey and please this sick voyeur who is deriving amusement from his dominance over her.

____ finds herself horrified at how slick she has become when she slips her fingers between her legs.

“Enjoying this are you? My naughty, naughty girl.”

“Spread those legs for me little lamb, wide. I want you to fuck yourself hard for me. I want to see those sheets dripping wet with your cum.”

She does as she’s told. Such an obedient little lamb.

She can feel the wetness of her cunt drip steadily from her as her fingers move restlessly, frantically. His voice comes through as aroused rumbles. Murmuring to her darkly how lovely she looks with her face twisted in pleasure. Although he promises to properly fuck her greedy pussy hard when he gets his hands on her.

“You moan like a well-paid whore. I can hear how wet you are. I bet you’ll taste sweeter than honey on my tongue.”

Worst of all, it’s true. The sounds falling from her lips don’t sound like her as she shamelessly works herself into a frenzy. She’s never been this like this before. Never felt such electrifying pleasure skittering up her spine to explode behind her eyes. Her head swims dizzyingly; full of the dirty promises he drawls to her over the phone. She can hear her fingers squish wetly as they plunged in and out. Her body tightens around her fingers, oh god how can it be that she’s enjoying this so much?

“Say it. Say my name when you cum.”

She sobs but can no longer tell if it’s from humiliation from being put into a position like this or because her body is so tightly wound up by the filth that spills from his lips that she desperately needs relief. Her body teeters dangerously close, so close! She can’t think of anything else anymore and can barely comprehend the dark honeyed voice giving her one last command.

**“Say it.”**

“Fu---V!”

His lamb cries so sweetly as her orgasm crushes her. Her body arched so beautifully for him before collapsing into a tired, sweaty heap.

Her soft, rapid pants and sobs are muffled through the speaker.

“_ Brava. _ Sweet dreams little lamb.”

V made his point.

He was getting under her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scared yet?
> 
> As always - thank you for jumping through the rabbit hole with me on this. Not sure where it's gonna take us, but I can at least promise to keep digging through the filth piling up in my head. Hopefully I can keep delivering heehee 
> 
> Also just so I don't get flayed alive: brava would be used to applaud/celebrate a female performer. Hence.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	11. Divergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired again by Final Fantasy 8 lol
> 
> (For V) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynfeFfUus30&list=PLCBrUTafYz3YbobOi61e8g9ZD6a5Uqzu2&index=53 [Final Fantasy 8 - Liberi Fatali]
> 
> (For you) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3USXsqW55LA&list=PLCBrUTafYz3YbobOi61e8g9ZD6a5Uqzu2&index=17 [Final Fantasy 8 - Fear]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a very quick transitional chapter. Take a breather sweetlings, this will be the last we'll see of V for a bit. This was very much inspired by his taunt where he orchestrates along to the Flight of the Valkyries. 
> 
> Forgive my liberal use of musical terms. I had to google all of them and take some artistic liberties with them.

### Divergence

The Madness sang in his blood.

V closed his eyes and gestured with his hands passionately, swaying almost drunkenly on his feet to a score that only he could hear. 

Dare he say it? – He felt…an inexplicable sense of...fulfillment. He was riding high from the string of successes lately. And most especially…from the recent sweet capitulation of his precious little lamb. Oh, she had not fully surrendered to him; no that would be so tragically boring. But his lamb had been taught a valuable lesson. He paused his thoughts right there.

Ah – the accerlando of the introduction! The sopranos whose ghostly voices trembled with their vibrato as they chanted through the refrain, their voices carrying over the trills of the woodwinds. He hummed, bowing his head, hearing the symphony of his masterpiece cresting through towards the climax. He swept his hands upwards, hearing the pitch of the choir swell powerfully with addition of the tenors and baritones at his direction.

Beautiful. 

Exquisite. 

_Ethereal._

He felt a frenzy grip him, one that not even his ever present Hunger could pierce. Wonderful! Wonderful! A sharp grin split across his blood flecked lips. His eyes opened to slits to watch his latest prey convulse in time to his score, thrashing violently against the leather straps that kept her to the steel table he cuffed her to. Such a pretty little thing, he chosen her because she reminded him just a little of his little lamb. Such wide, expressive eyes that watered in terror at the sight of the crazed demon that towered over her. She pulled frantically at the restraints, the leather biting into her skin harshly, leaving bleeding welts. 

Blood trickled from her like tears as her coffee brown eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her spine arched sharply, any further and she would literally snap in two. The table beneath her rattled fiercely with the strength of her convulsions. V gestured his left hand, waving it dramatically. Signaling now for the percussion and the deep throated brass instruments to thunder through. Blood bubbled at her lips, her wails of agony muffled by the cloth gag. 

V could only hear the high shrieks of the violins at this juncture of his imagined orchestra. The screech of the strings stirred his blood into a tempest. His heart pounded wildly. Sweat beaded at his temples and dripped down the back of his neck. A wave of giddiness burst like a crystal in his mind. He was almost there! 

Then a flicker of purple – an orb no bigger than his fist began to slowly emerge from the woman. He quickly angled his hand, cutting the orchestra to a sharp silence. 

The _caesura_ ; the grand pause. 

He held his breath as the soul fragment finally ripped free. Hovering like a little will o’ wisp above the crumpled form of the woman it once belonged to. 

And now…

Elegant fingers curled tightly around the little fragment. It pulsed in his grasp like a still beating heart. He admired it for a moment. It swirled and eddied on itself, like a living ball of flame. The deep purple of the soul glimmered like amethysts, casting his face in an eerie light. His fingers quickly crushed closed around it. V threw his head back and snarled in ecstasy as the magic funneled into him, deep, deep into the ravenous void that resided within him. The climax of his score completed in his mind with a grand, fevered crescendo from the choir.

He bowed with a flourish, hands spread widely to the sides. Body aglow with the soul he absorbed. Emerald eyes glittered in satisfaction. His chest heaved as he panted heavily.

_Bravo!_

The woman’s head lolled to the side, her eyes unseeing. A smirk curled his lips as he noticed that she was still breathing. Alive…in the barest sense of the word, if his interpretation of the text of the Émigré Manuscript was correct. Still, V considered it progress. The formulas he had translated indicated that souls could only be called from beyond the Gates of Time. V didn’t care much for the oddly specific restriction. Instead deviating from the written ritual to see if he could just simply call the soul from a still living, breathing vessel.

He had not been able to call forth a whole soul…yet. But the fragments he had been able to rip free were steadily growing larger as his understanding and abilities improved. He surmised that if he could already drain a soul with the use of the magical properties of his cane, could he not find a way to achieve the same effect without it? Once he was able to do so, he could move onto researching if he could use his cane as a conduit – a conductor’s baton if you will – to direct the soul into any vessel of his choosing. It would be quite convenient to have a collection of souls to consume in the off chance he could not find prey when the Hunger struck.

Of course, it had taken nearly eight or so ‘volunteers’ to get even this far. But V greatly enjoyed this part of the scientific process. Calculating and experimenting with all the permutations he could imagine. He dragged his tongue slowly across his lips, turning to ascend from the basement. Finished for the night. Not bothering at all with the young woman who began convulsing again at the loss of part of her integral essence. She wouldn’t live through the night anyways with the other two he’s played with earlier.

** With You ---------- **

Another week slipped by in a relative and uneasy silence. No more threats to her friends. No more filthy calls. No more signs of her apartment being broken into. But the _anticipation_ for something to upend her daily routine again was unbearable, intolerable. She still jumped every time her phone chimed. Still fought the knee jerk reactions to violently snap at anyone that looked even remotely like V. …Still could hear the silky drawl in her ears at night when it became too quiet.

True to form, ____ forced herself to continue on with her life. Although now she was armed with the unsettling truth that the sexual attraction to V had not fizzled to cold ashes after their last…_tête-à-tête_ like she had thought it would. If anything, it seemed to grow even more intense. Embarrassingly, her dreams have started to center around a certain deranged summoner. One who used his elegant hands and that all too sinful voice to shatter her to pieces for his sick pleasure. 

She groaned and threw an arm over her eyes as she woke from yet another too vivid dream. Her thighs were uncomfortably sticky and wet. _Again_. Her cunt was clenching pitifully and her clit throbbed with unfulfilled need. Her nipples were pebbled, the coarse fabric of her night shirt rasping against them made the throbbing worse. Even the slightest amount of pressure from shifting her legs made her whine quietly in need.

_Like a moth to flame…_ She thought wearily. _Can’t seem to shake him out of my head and my life. And now a part of me doesn’t want to. _

____ watched the sliver of light that filtered through the nearly closed curtains of her window slowly brighten as the sun rose. Mind just focused on the gleaming beam of honey gold. Things that frightened her, things that went bump in the dark seemed not so nearly bad now with the light of the sun to chase them into the dark corners where they belonged. But inside her head, a devil keeps whispering to her. In soft dark croons that both repulsed and enticed her oh so dangerously. 

_I keep playing into his games. Only reacting whenever he wants me to, like an evil puppet master and I’m the pretty little doll that entertains him…_

Her fists clenched the sheets tightly. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” He’s gotten under her skin. She can’t count how many times he’s flipped her world upside down and inside out into a tangled mess. Everything became so unbalanced that it’s the most ironic thing ever that **he** is the only thing she can count on to stay consistent in the turbulence. Great, an insane man is her anchor to reality…there are so many things wrong with that thought that she can’t figure out where to start.

____ can feel herself teetering precariously on a knife’s edge. One wrong slip…

But she can’t decide if it would be a good thing or not to fall beyond the point of no return.

…And that particular thought frightened her the most. 

_It’s like a fatal attraction to a dangerous animal. I’m going to be eaten alive…and a part of me wants that…_ She grimaced. _I'm in deep trouble._

A hand grabbed her pillow and pressed it over her face. She lets loose a long, drawn scream into it. Letting out all her frustration, fear, anger, desire…only stopping finally when her voice becomes hoarse and her throat is raw. Panting heavily, she flopped the pillow to the side.

Well she felt mildly better.

A hand swept to her nightstand, groping for her phone.

It’s nearly noon now.

Sitting up, she padded over to the bathroom to shower and dress for the day. All this nonsense aside, she still had a job to do and bills to pay. This disturbing and frankly fucked up development in her otherwise normal life, doesn’t stop the rest of the world from going on with its business. 

She skips the coffee to shower first. She felt too tense, too jittery, too restless. Perhaps just straight extermination jobs today? Something mindless to just burn off all this extra nervous energy that snapped and crackled beneath her skin. Blunted nails massaged the shampoo in her scalp. The repetitive kneading motion of her fingers helped her calm a little further. 

It takes perhaps a good half hour before she emerges, fully dressed. Feeling a bit more normal. She finished her usual full carafe of coffee while straightening her home a bit and double checking all her weapons and kit. None of those explosive bullets today, she had only intentions of going after the hordes of small fry that plagued the city borders. Standard low level demons. Easily taken out with even basic gear.

____ stopped on her way to the front door to lightly tap at her window, seeing a crow perched on there. The bird tilted its head at her curiously before hopping from the ledge to fly off.

But as she leaves the apartment building, she doesn’t take very many steps before beefy hands grab at her to toss her into an alley. A fist smashed into her temples, sending her crashing into the brick wall behind her. She spat out a mouthful of blood and bared red stained teeth at her assailant. Her eyes flashed with undisguised contempt. 

“Why, Detective Hart – how _nice_ to see you again.” A sneer twisted her lips.

The pudgy forty something year old homicide detective, snapped handcuffs on her as his partner relieved her of her sword and gun. She heard a radio blaring from an open window above her.

“—Yet another body has been found, brutalized in the same gruesome manner that has become the calling card of the Enamel City Ripper. The police were alerted to the body by a tip left on the anonymous line, who some believe may have actually been the Ripper. There have no reported news of progress by the homicide division. And this young woman marks the eighth victim the Ripper has claimed. As if that’s not enough to give everyone nightmares, there have been two cases of kidnappings so far within the past two days. More to come –“

Detective Hart shoved ____ roughly into a waiting squad car. “I finally got you bitch.” He gloated down at her, spitting at her hatefully.

She smirked in response, enraging him further. “We’ll see about that fucker.” 

The door slammed shut on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear oh dear, life moves on despite that fact that you picked up a stalker. Unfortunately, bad things are brewing close to home that you better take care of asap before it gets out of control.
> 
> (And this was just a really good stopping place heh)
> 
> Until Next Time~


	12. Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty dark in here too. This is a chapter that reveals a bit more about how you subsequently made an enemy out of Hart. Warning, contains police brutality and corruption, graphic descriptions of a rather painful castration and torture, mentions of pedophilia and human trafficking and a tiny mention of attempted rape. I am not including this type of content for shock value, but it has been on my mind. And at the moment, a pretty damned good way to get a teeny bit of satisfaction and vent my frustration at this injustice in a way that won't land me in prison. 
> 
> Keep in mind, sometimes justice is not very clean or nice at all. And Enamel City only respects ‘justice' of the ruthless kind anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I said that this fic is going to make a lot of people uncomfortable. And we've veered so far away from my original outline, this story is growing in a direction I didn't intend. But I will say, it's actually a helluva lot more interesting than the original. Although this does push that promised punishment chapter even farther out. (At least I can comfort myself in the fact that it's already written).

### Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

** Roughly Five Years Ago---------- **

“Got my deliveries in safely, Hart?” An immaculately well-dressed man with slicked back black hair leered at the padlocked door Robert Hart guarded. The smell of expensive cigarettes swirled from him in a thick, sickly sweet haze. He’s wearing a perfectly fitted three piece suit with Italian custom made shoes. Everything about this man screamed entitled bastard from head to toe. Dark blue eyes glittered in undisguised covetousness at the thought of what lay just behind that door. 

Hart shared a knowing grin with his client. This man was the typical profile that Hart is used to catering to, so he adjusts his tone accordingly. “Only the best, like I promised.” 

“Good, good. Well then, don’t keep me waiting.” Liam is practically salivating now, hovering closely as Hart unlocked the door. Impatience burned through him, making him tense and cagey. He’s been waiting for well over a month for this moment. His hand fists so tightly that the knuckles crack.

The door creaked on rusty hinges and slowly swung in.

Both men are taken aback when there is a lone young woman there, standing with her arms crossed and a smile that is sharper than a knife. She’s a little emaciated and young looking. She’s clad in only thick denim jeans, boots and a tank top. 

But she’s not what Hart had promised to deliver.

“Hello pig.” Her lips curve slightly upwards. 

“What the fu-“ The butt of a gun rammed into Hart’s Adam’s apple followed by a knee deep into his soft belly. He dropped to his knees on the floor, arms wrapped around his stomach. He looks up, seeing the suited man looking down at him with a mixture of disgust and pure hatred. Hart coughed, spittle flying from his mouth; fighting his gag reflex as realization dawned on him that he’d been double crossed. “You fuckers!” He wheezed. “Do you know who I am!? I’ll make you pay for this!”

The point of a glittering knife presses warningly into the vulnerable underside of his jaw. The girl is there, casually crouching on her knees to look at him at eye-level. The cold muzzle of a gun is pressed to the back of his head. Hart feels the bite of the knife as she prods him deeper, hot blood trickles down his neck irritatingly.

The suited man speaks again. “Don’t bother trying to call for help. My Hunter friend here has already taken care of that. It’s just the three of us in this cozy little place. I made sure that we can have a nice little chat, without interruptions.”

Hart’s attention is brought back to the girl who slices a hot line from his fat jowls down to rest threateningly at his jugular. “You know,” She starts off conversationally, “I normally don’t make it my business to stick my nose in messes like this. Helping people with their personal vendettas aren’t my thing. But for sick fucks like you, I’ll make an exception.” She leaned in so close that Hart can smell fucking flowers from this chick. It throws him off for a second because what’s staring at him coldly in the eyes is not a little girl but…

…an enraged Devil Hunter.

Muscled arms yank him onto his back, the gun is now pressed between his eyes. Beads of sweat drip from his face as he watched the safety clicked off. 

“Wa-wait! Come on please! I can pay you big, you want a cut of the business? All the merchandise – I can get you anything or anyone you want!” His voice wavers, frantically trying to negotiate for his life. Bloodshot eyes darted back and forth as he desperately tries to bargain for his pathetic hide.

Liam growled, anger twisting his face as he jams the muzzle into the meaty forehead hard. “You really think we’re into that type of shit? For your information, we don’t get off on raping fucking twelve year olds and auctioning them off to other pervs like you. And no fucking amount of money is gonna make me change my mind. Cause tonight, you’re getting what’s coming to you.” His voice is hard as he promises the fat pedophile pain beyond comparison.

Hart just stammers incoherently, not quite understanding how these two can’t be bought off. This was Enamel City for fucks sake – seediest place on God’s green earth. Someone always has a price that could be paid. Anything goes here, or so he thought. 

He was right at least in that regard. _Anything goes in Enamel City._

“Keep him right there.” The female Hunter coolly interjects before he can continue with his rant. “Oh, and enjoy the show. That’s what you paid for after all.” She adds with a strange twist to her lips, locking eyes with her client for this mission.

“I intend to Hunter. I expect to get my money’s worth.” 

While Liam wishes that he was the one with the knife, he’ll settle for taking satisfaction in watching the Hunter he hired gut up this man like the pig he is. His hands are trembling faintly in anticipation of the ensuing lesson. He had been chasing this for so long. It was so surreal that he wanted to pinch himself to make sure it was really happening. To finally watch the shittiest scumbag he’s ever laid on eyes - getting a taste of what he had endured under this very man nearly a decade ago. Being passed around as a convenient fuck hole, back when Hart had just been a small name, working his way up to the trafficking rings. He wanted Hart to get a reealll good fucking taste of that hell Hart put him through as young twelve year old boy.

Bonus that he got a premium seat to it.

It had been difficult trying to find someone to take up this mission. Liam scoured through so many contacts in Enamel City. He didn’t want to hire just any old mercenary. By this point, Hart had built enough of a name that he was able to hire demons to protect himself from victims like Liam from trying to get revenge. Ergo, he needed a Devil Hunter. But the ones he had gone to turned him away immediately. Either they demanded more than he could afford or they were simply too busy with what they deemed more important than his revenge, his pain and anguish. 

Until the Network found him.

Liam hadn’t been very discreet in his search for a Hunter. Someone slipped a note to him with a burner cell, with a number to call without his noticing one night. He didn’t care if it was a trap at this point, he was desperate enough to sell his soul for revenge. So in the darkness of his apartment, he called without hesitation. A chirpy receptionist answered him sunnily on the first ring. 

She cheerily told him that the number he called meant a Hunter from the Network was interested in taking him on as a client. She proceeded to go through all the warnings of employing one of their Hunters, stating that ‘silence’ will be his payment due to the nature of his request. Non-negotiable. Liam didn’t care, he agreed. Anything to see Hart get what he richly deserved.

Liam was brought out of his musings by the sound of a zipper being pulled down. He watched in growing malicious glee as the Hunter clinically sawed off as much of Hart’s trousers as she needed so they wouldn’t get in her way. The pudgy pig squealed at the sight of the wicked blade so dangerously close to the part of his anatomy that he used to bring children pain and terror unimaginable. 

“No- no! Please don’t fucking cut off -!”

Liam stomped his foot into his face, feeling the delicate bones of his nose crunch. “Shut up.”

The pain that exploded all over the pedophile’s face distracted him momentarily from what the Hunter was preparing him for. Through the pain, he suddenly groaned in pleasure, hips thrusting up when he felt a delicate small hand pump his pathetic cock to life.

The pleasure is fleeting and rapidly morphed into a pain unimaginable when the bite of cold metal suddenly begins to slowly saw through the meat of his arousal. He screams in horror. No – no! She couldn’t! Can’t just saw his dick off like that! Liam is there, foot pressing hard down on his chest to keep him on the ground. Although it was unnecessary as the physical and psychological agony of having what he considered the most important part of his anatomy hacked away crippled him. 

Hart is quickly reduced to a blubbering mess of blood and tears. He pleads for the demon to stop; screams, negotiates, bribes, threaten, anything under the sun. Anything that he can think of that might stop her from finishing the job she was paid to do. But no one answers his prayers. This is Enamel City after all. And Hart should know better than anyone, everyone for themselves. He was the one stupid enough to get caught, no one is going to bother to cover his ass.

The knife shines wetly with blood and cartilage. The Hunter’s face is impassive, detached. Almost like she is just butchering meat for dinner. It humiliates the pudgy trafficker. To be reduced to nothing as she takes away everything from him.

“Satisfied yet?” She asks, ripping Hart’s left testicle off, slicing the veins and skin that held connected it to his body. Another agonized wail reverberates throughout the room. Hart began to convulse from shock and blood loss. But his beady eyes train hatefully at the Hunter, memorizing her face. She dismisses his silent threats.

“Take it all off and force feed it to him. I want this fucker to see what it’s like to choke on his own dick. Just like how he made me do it.”

There is no hesitation as she does exactly that. Pinching his nose hard and forcing his mouth open so she could shove the mangled, bloody bits of what was left of his cock into his mouth. There is a parody of a matronly smile as she forces him to chew. “Don’t eat with your mouth full pig.”

** Present Day --------- **

Robert Hart trained his beady eyes on the Hunter as his partner roughly shoved her into the cheap plastic seat. Watching with growing malicious glee as her wrists and ankles are shackled together. Hart impatiently waved him away before he could chain her to the bolted table for extra security. No, he wanted to have a little freedom for what he planned for this special interrogation and their _special guest_.

“Go ahead and get the paperwork for the judge ready. I don’t plan on taking more than ten minutes to get this confession.” He leered. His hands itching to get to work.

The door clanged loudly behind the other officer as he left. Eyes averted and a poker face plastered on. He pitied the poor girl who somehow put herself on Hart’s shitlist. 

Now it was just him and ____. Locked airtight in this little room. No way to escape. 

_Five long fucking years bitch. I waited for five fucking years for today._

Five years later saw the man on the wrong side of his forties. Balding and with a peppered greasy mustache. He was scarred and heavily wrinkled. Teeth yellowed from cigarettes and poor hygiene. His skin jaundiced from the insane amount of alcohol he consumed. The pudgy man with the unimpressive title of Homicide Detective arrogantly slid a paper and pen in front of her. He’s smug, stupidly proud of himself for trapping her like this. Thinking that he’s got the upper hand, eagerly anticipating the despair when he tells her of the fate he’s sentenced her to.

“____, you have been charged eight counts of murder of the first degree and three counts of kidnapping.” The chains rattled with the force of his hands slamming on the table as he leans in close. His rancid coffee breath sprays in her face. “You’re not going to get yourself out of this one. I got ‘proof’. That fucker Billy can’t save your ass now. And I got the judge in my pocket. I’m gonna make sure you get a first class ticket to the Cradle.” He gloated.

Hart expected her to crumple and cry.

Or to rage.

Or attempt to negotiate.

She did none of those, much to his fury and to her amusement.

____ coolly leaned on the table, a sharp smile twisting her lips. The same one from five years ago. Her expression impenetrable except for the derision glittering in her eyes. She laced her fingers together and stares him down imperiously, like he was no more significant than an ant.

Fucking too arrogant.

Hart backhanded her, splitting her lip open. Feeling a small bit of satisfaction at seeing the blood trickle down her chin and past her collar. He pushed his luck and this time fists a meaty hand into her hair and slams her face first into the table. Once. Twice. A total of five times.

Because he could.

Because he was the one in charge, not this smug bitch.

But Hart literally seethed and foamed at the mouth when after being on the receiving end of those love taps, she just leans back into the chair, lounging like a goddamned queen. Completely dismissive of him. He growled, hauling her to her feet by her collar.

“You think you’re so smart. Well I got news for you, I don’t need a fucking confession from you. I’m just going to haul your ass straight to the Minotaur and let him fuck you to death. How’s that for ya?” He leered, thinking that the mention of the Cradle’s monster would get a rise from her.

It does. But not the one he wants.

“Oh? Then stop wasting my fucking time and get to it already pig.”

The next fist leaves her ears ringing. Blood dripped into her eyes, coloring the world with a tinge of scarlet. More blows rain down on her ribs as he tossed her to the ground to stomp his heavy booted foot into her side and stomach. She can taste blood and bile at the back of her throat. Can feel the blooms of what will be ugly bruises spreading all over. A searing pain licked across every single of her nerves. Especially around her chest. 

Probably at least two cracked ribs.

Anyone else might have passed out from the excruciating pain right now. But not her.

Instead, ____ still smirks tauntingly at him. 

“How’s the plastic cunt you’ve been fucking pig? Oh wait that’s right, you don’t even have a dick to fuck with anymore. What a shame.” She jeered, baring her blood stained teeth at him. 

She felt greasy fingers curl over her mouth. “I don’t need a dick to fucking wreck you before I toss you to the Minotaur you fucking cunt.” His other hand began to tug at her pants. 

She curled her hands but the chains only give her enough slack to bring it up to his waist and not his face. Instead, ____ snarled, pulling her lips back and clamped her teeth into the meaty juncture between his thumb and index finger. She bites down so hard that her teeth rips completely through the flesh. Hart is howling, his free hand wrenching at her hair in an attempt to get her to let go. ____ savagely rips her mouth away, taking the chunk of flesh with her. Her fingers briefly looped into his belt to keep him from reeling back before she could give him a little gift. She spat it right in between his eyes, grinning madly as blood dripped from her mouth. “You lost something pig.”

A hard kick to the back of head her sends her reeling as starbursts of pain explode behind her eyes. The back of her neck feels sticky and wet. The world tilts and dips dangerously, swirling in a confusing mix of color and noise. The vertigo from her injuries threatens to pull her into unconsciousness, but she fights hard to keep somewhat alert.

The ringing in her ears prevents her from hearing Hart calling for the others to haul her battered body straight to the cells in the Cradle. He waves a court order in her face and stomps off to lead the way. Her head lolled to the side as she is unceremoniously dragged down a corridor. Doors and keys clank and jangle, and she thought she heard the sound of metal grating on stone before being tossed into a tiny barred room like a ragdoll. Hart doesn’t need her to forge the confession. The judge on rotation today will approve her sentence and that will be that. 

“Have fun with the Minotaur.” He sneered one last time, confident that he’s covered all his tracks now and that the powerful allies she’s made can’t touch him in retaliation for her murder.

____ hears him rattle the bars and laugh at her mockingly before exiting the Cradle and back to safety. While he wouldn’t have minded getting to gloat over the battered and broken Hunter more, staying longer than he needed to in the Cradle was just asking for it. And Hart is always more interested in what benefited him.

He leaves, more than giddy that he’s cleaned up all loose ends.

Her mind clinically assessed herself. One of her eyes is swollen shut and the other can only see vague grey shadows. Her breathing is labored and shallow and she has to wrap an arm tight around her ribs to make it a little less painful to breathe. With difficulty, she does a peculiar wriggle on her side to move herself backwards until her back hits the wall of the tiny cell. The pain is near unbearable. Hart really did a number on her. She bites her lips, splitting it anew to stifle the screams of pain as she braces herself against the wall to sit up. 

_Shit, shit, shit…that hurts…_ She doesn’t trust herself to speak. Doesn’t trust herself to open her mouth lest she start vomiting.

____ stayed motionless for some time. Her stomach is roiling with nausea. And the pain is a sharp, incessant needling that makes it hard for her to focus on anything else. Her only blessings right now is that she’s no longer swallowing down blood anymore and the sight is somewhat restored in her good eye. 

She swallowed several times and groaned as she gingerly peeled away an arm to reach into the hidden pocket she’s sewn into her bra. It’s times like now that she’s immensely grateful that being overly paranoid pays off. Ever since she’s moved to Enamel City, she made it an instinctual habit to carry a few essentials in hidden pockets in the off chance that she’s disarmed and stripped of everything but her clothes. Although, embarrassingly she hasn’t found a way to conceal anything useful in the event her clothes are taken too.

That last thought makes her chuckle, a clear sign that those knocks to her head unscrewed something loose.

Breathing heavily, her fingers dip into the pocket and pulls out a single Vitality Star. The effort brings on a fresh wave of pain and nausea but she resolutely chews through it, crunching it between her teeth and letting it dissolve on her tongue. It would take some time because of the extent of her injures, but the meager magic in it should dull the pain enough for her to hobble around.

She’d just have to be extremely careful about fighting down here.

____ had to hand it to Hart though for getting drop on her this time. She knew it was a matter of time before he used the Enamel City Ripper case as a convenient cover to get his revenge. Ever since the Network sent her an alert about his subsequent rise to the Homicide Division. It rankled her that she let herself get so complacent with Hart. She had utterly humiliated him and miscalculated how determined he was to get even. She had been an arrogant little shit back then, too cocky with her newly minted title as Devil Hunter.

_Gonna have to fix that loose end._ She promised to herself.

First things first.

Escape.

Despite the pain, she smiled. As her fingers dipped into the side pocket of her pants, fishing out the small set of keys she pilfered from Hart.

_Thank you Cecilia for teaching me to be a kleptomaniac._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up - half dead and wandering around a demon infested sewer system cutely nicknamed the Cradle. We're gonna head back into the survival horror aspect of this series.
> 
> Until Next Time~
> 
> PS - I signed up for a training module at work. How to recognize if someone coming in to the pharmacy might be a victim of abuse or human trafficaking and how I can try to help them or at least get them to open up enough about it to get them proper help. Although I think this applies to everyday life and not just to healthcare professionals. I hope I can do my part with helping as many as I can. Especially where I live - it's a major issue.


	13. The Cradle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello sweetlings, it feels like forever and a day since I uploaded. Pharm school is freaking intense and it's only been a week. I need you guys to keep me sane the next four years - please?
> 
> So let's see what you've been up to.
> 
> By the way, I cooked up a one shot if you haven't checked it out. It's just a What If - based on the premise if the meeting with V at Fortuna Castle went awry. I hope it helps keep the edge off the anticipation for what our favorite poet has in store for you later. It's called The Sweetest Lamb.

### The Cradle

_ Well, that’s convenient._

Footsteps thundered down the concrete towards her tiny holding cell. She wondered - must be the officer sent down to toss her into the Cradle proper. Although judging from the way his feet stomped, he sounded pretty annoyed.

She could work with that. An annoyed guard meant a likelihood the officer would be in too much of a hurry and would be careless. A plan forming in her mind, she dropped her chin to her chest, sagged her body even more against the wall and did her best to look wounded and harmless. Docile. Thankfully, ____ knew she looked much worse than she felt. The Vitality Star was working its magic on her. Slowly but surely. After enough time had passed, the useful little item will have healed the worst of her injuries. And she was going to need everything she had to survive her upcoming trial.

_Shame I only had the one. Another one would have been nice in case something else goes wrong later…_

Keys clanged noisily into the lock. The sound of the metal door scraping harshly on the concrete floor made her wince. _Like nails on a chalkboard._ She shuddered at the strange twist of discomfort that traveled down her spine from the offending screech.

“Get the fuck up inmate.” The officer gruffed, sneering down at her. He noticed the heavy amount of dried blood over her face and the way she curled into herself like a kicked dog. Damn, Hart must have been in a bitch fit to fuck her up so badly.

He rolled his eyes and stepped closer when she made no move to get up. Looks like he’ll have to just drag her ass to the Cradle then. “Gotta do everything around here.” He grumbled. He had signed up for an easy and cushy job. Having to do actual work and to be this close to the Cradle had not been part of the dream desk job he had been angling for.

_Thats it, just get a bit closer._ She peeked from beneath the mess of hair plastered over her face. Watched as those dirty scuffed shoes slowly approach. She wanted to roll her eyes at how he continued to complain about doing his job. _Oh grow a pair. Geez. Is laziness the basic requirement to be a cop nowadays? No wonder it’s gotten so easy to get away with anything._

Rough hands gripped her collar and yanked her to her feet. She made an exaggerated show of moaning in pain from the rough treatment and staggered back to brace herself against the wall. She heard him grunt in annoyance and smirked inwardly. What an idiot. He actually was buying the wounded animal trick. He yanked her up again and forced her to stumble and shuffle in front of her towards a rusted metal door down another short corridor. She watched him closely as he left her where she stood and bent to unlock the door.

_Shame on him._ She tsk’d. 

He never saw it coming. Underestimated the wounded animal and forgot that it still had **teeth**. She sneered, _over complacent idiot_. One never turned their back on an animal that’s become desperate.

_Because a desperate enemy has nothing left to lose…and will do anything to survive._

____ dropped into a half crouch and stalked closer. She pounced, looping the chains of her shackles around his neck. She pulled him down flat on his back and pressed her foot onto his shoulder for leverage and pulled the chain up as hard as she could. The man’s eyes bulged in surprise as his hands clawed at his neck in a futile attempt to loosen the chain wrapped tightly around him, crushing his windpipe. His tongue swelled and stuck to the roof of his mouth. He gagged and slowly suffocated on his tongue, thrashing hard as his feet kicked wildly. She watched impassively; grip never once slackening; as his face turned an ugly shade of red, then purple before he finally stopped breathing altogether.

Her shoulders heaved as she panted heavily from the exertion. She yanked at the chain one more time just to be sure. The body jerked with her movements like a ragdoll. _That’s that. Shame it’s not Hart._ She thought with malicious disappointment.

Wasting no time, she fished out the keys to her shackles again and unlocked herself. Then bent over the body and began pulling off his gun holster and searched him for anything else that could be useful. She was able to acquire a Glock - basically a popgun compared to the beauty she had. But at least it had a full chamber. On top of that, she found two full magazine clips, a switchblade, a lighter and a flashlight. She yanked off his uniform jacket as well and immediately began ripping it to shreds to bind her chest with, to help keep her ribs in place. Having the bindings made it that much easier for her to breathe.

An idea struck her. She divided the left over scraps of the jacket into three squares, split open all the bullets from one magazine clip and made herself three crude “bombs” with long fuses. _Learned my lesson from last time. I’m making sure to pack some bang. Got a feeling I might have to bomb myself an exit._ She was pleased with her forethought.

Now armed, she turned to the opened door. Clicking on the flashlight, she stepped into the open maw of the Cradle. She’ll take her chances in here than try to fight her way out through the police precinct where there were too many guns to blow holes in her before she could even blink. She ignored the tiny part of her that wished V knew what happened to her. The Cradle scared her more than the deranged summoner did.

_Now isn’t that a surprise. But better the devil you know, I suppose…?_ She told herself doubtfully but not willing to really sit down an examine why she was even thinking of him in a less negative light to begin with.

Her mind turned to the Cradle. All she knew about it was that it was a subterranean network of tunnels that functioned as Enamel’s sewer system. Albeit it was infested with more than just cockroaches and waste. Sludge demons, strange mutated rodents and insects roamed the sewers and called it home. The most infamous demon of all according to the rumors, the one that made the Cradle terrifying was the Minotaur. No one knew how it even ended up there, but ____ didn’t care. It didn’t matter how it got there honestly, all that mattered was avoiding it and getting out in one piece.

And even if there weren’t any demons, ____ had to still be on high alert anyways because there were some dangerous undesirables hiding out from the ‘justice’ system of Enamel down there too.

_Geez, talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. My luck has been shit lately._ She grumbled internally, in slight disbelief at the shenanigans that seemed to determined to put her in scenarios with near impossible odds of success. _I have got to be overdue for some good luck._

She followed the path in deeper. The air was stale and humid; but the stench of damp sewage, rotting corpses and old blood made it noxious. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and tried to breathe shallowly through her mouth. Ugh, when that didn’t help. She took the last scrap of fabric she saved and made a quick face mask to help filter out some of the stink. She really didn’t want to die from the godawful smell - even the rot monster from Fortuna didn’t compare to this.

The gun is a small comfort in her hand. There was never a moment more urgent than now where she desperately wished she had her weapons on her. Wished that she didn’t have to cut her losses and leave them behind in Hart’s pudgy, greasy, undeserving hands. 

_It’s going to take me forever to save up to get anything that good to fight with again. What a waste. Tch. Maybe I can convince C to break in and take them back for me?_

She muffled her steps as much as she could. The gloom was oppressive - claustrophobic even as it pressed heavily all around her. Flickering service lights glowed a soft, muted orange down the tunnels as far as she could see. She counted a light maybe every hundred feet or so. But the darkness that hung in between the lights was what creeped her out the most. Things that hid in the darkness, the unknown…She hoped that the flashlight will get her through without dying on her this time. She didn’t want a repeat of the Fortuna Castle where she had to fight a losing battle in the pitch black darkness.

Above her were lines of heavy pipes rumbling with flushed sewage and water as it carried the waste away from the city. ____ made her decisions on where to go by following the directions of where the water went. Partly hopeful that it should lead her out somewhere - possibly even to the treatment plant on the edge of the city itself.

It was a solid enough plan- she thought all the water sounded like it was going in one direction. But before she could get far enough, she heard footsteps echo just up ahead. She clicked off the flashlight and pressed herself flat against a wall. Finger already on the trigger. She held her breath as it approached, already committed to shooting first and shooting to kill. There was zero chance anyways that it’s something friendly. Not down here. She was going to have to look out only for herself.

300 feet.

The steps were hesitant now. She could hear someone muttering about how they thought they saw something down here.

200 feet.

She heard the click of another gun. Saw a weak beam of light swinging back and forth wildly, searching. She watched at the little beam of light steadily grew closer and closer to her.

100 feet.

The mutterings were now more audible. Now she could tell it was a gruff male voice, calling out suspiciously for whoever it was to show themselves, that if they were lost he could help. _Yeah like I’m stupid enough to fall for that_. As a testament that the hard knocks to her head unscrewed something loose in her brain; she got distracted by asking herself exactly how many people fell for that anyways? She shook her head, focus! 

50 feet. 

30 feet.

She could hear the thumps of her heart slow in anticipation. 

10 feet.

Just a little closer. She fought the urge to fidget to calm her jittery nerves.

3 feet.

The beam of light was inches from where she hid. She took her chance and fired off three bullets around the wall, the recoil jarring her wrist as she did so. In the dim light, she saw a man crumple to the ground, bleeding out and motionless. As she thought, he had a gun out and looked as if he had been ready to kill the minute he found her.

Good thing she had been able to get the first shot in.

She holstered the Glock and flipped the body on its back. Just like with the officer, she checked for anything that could be of use. The Vitality Star might have repaired a fair bit of the injuries she sustained from Hart’s ‘hospitality’ but she was a far cry from being in decent shape. Especially down here in the Cradle, one can never be too armed. 

She took his Ruger SR9 and raised an eyebrow at it, examining it in the orange glow of the service light. Not too shabby, it would make a decent backup firearm. She took its holster and strapped it to herself and searched for more ammunition for it. She found only one more clip and sighed irritably. That was it? 

_It was one thing to be frugal. Quite another to cheap out on the things that’s gonna keep you alive_, she scoffed. Abandoning the body where it lay, she resumed her trek through.

Her innate sense of survival prickled ominously. She had far too much good luck with the guard and this low life thug. Something was bound to go wrong.

Anxiety and anticipation made her body break out in a cold sweat. She wouldn’t lie that the Cradle made her hackles rise. And if she had been anyone else, she probably would have pissed herself in fear by now. Although - in general, a lot of dark enclosed spaces had that effect on her. Something about the way the darkness weighed down on her, made her feel small and alone. It reminded her too much of the coffin imagery - too close, too suffocating. The pressure of awareness that there was no way out. The darkness was most definitely not the friendliest thing in her opinion. Yes, a useful tool on occasion but still definitely a boogeyman that she didn’t want to tangle with more than needed.

She shivered and shook her head to clear those thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to dig up why she hated places like this. It was only going to unnerve her even more.

____ rubbed at her eyes tiredly with her knuckles as she resumed her earlier path. The knocks of the water rushing through the pipes, the rattles of her breaths catching in her throat and the ever present paranoia was starting to wear her down mentally. She wondered how long had she been wandering down here already. Wished for even a wrist watch for some semblance of time.

And she had yet to find any defensible place to rest. Rest that she sorely needed to survive. It would do no good to run the Cradle without a little sleep. Her tired mind was going to start working against her, making up more monsters in the dark for her to jump at. _No thank you to that._ She forced herself to walk perhaps yet another half a mile. She felt a rush of wind blow down from above and looked up, seeing a rusting ladder that led up into a larger pipe - she wondered if it might be big enough for her to fit into. It looked like it might.

Sinking down to a crouch beneath the lowest rung, she braced herself to leap for it. She grunted when the metal bit at her unprotected hands. The rung felt a little soft under her grip but so far seemed sturdy enough. She chanced it and swung herself back and forth, as she tried to adjust her grip so she could pull herself up to the next rungs. She huffed in exertion as she continued to climb. The rungs were slippery with mold and a sort of damp that she didn’t want to name. 

As she thought. The ladder lead to a much larger maintenance pipe. But she could only get in about 4 feet before hitting a large grate of thick bars. She flicked the flashlight past the grate and frowned, seeing that it led to a dead end. So much for wondering if there was an alternate path. She turned back and tried to see if the ladder went up anywhere else, maybe a manhole?

Nothing, another heavily barred grate up there too. A gust of colder air blasted from the grate and down into the tunnels below. She wondered where the source of that air came from. It was slightly fresher than the air circulating below.

____ found a dry enough section of the pipe and settled in. She pulled her knees close and rested her head on them, letting her eyes close tiredly. Out in the gloom, she heard someone screaming and a deep throated growl.

_Oh boy. If I had a god, I’d be praying to them now_. She mentally quipped. Yup, those knocks really unscrewed something.

She dozed. She had a strange and vague dream; of being hands curling possessively around her neck and playful licks up her throat. Seeing a tattooed arm vice around her tightly before pushing her headfirst into a dark abyss. Hot wind rushed at her face as the darkness swelled around her tightly, wrapping around like a cocoon.

She woke up, dripping head to toe in sweat. Steam was curling now from the vents and had flooded the entire sewers as far as she could see in a hot, sticky mist. She grimaced, wiping the sweat away from her face with her sleeve. Her hair stuck uncomfortably to her face and the back of her neck. Sweat dripped steadily in uncomfortable places. 

____ twisted and stretched as well as she could in the tight space. Her back popped. The little bit of sleep made her feel better. Her breathing came a bit easier and the bumps on the back of her head felt a little less swollen. Thank god for Vitality Stars.

She carefully climbed back down into the murky haze. Listened closely to the water whistling through the rattling pipes and followed it again. 

The steam fogging the sewers made it even harder to move and navigate.

It proved perilous when a demon roared out of nowhere. Jagged forelimbs stretched out razor sharp for her. The concrete beneath was slick and she collided into the wall when she tried to side step its attack. The barbs shredded through her shirt and grazed her shoulder, leaving a hot line of pain and blood. She ducked and narrowly avoided having her head lopped off. A few hairs fluttered around her.

Her hands dipped to holsters on her hips, pulling out both the Glock and Ruger. She shot once with the Glock, testing its defense. It shrieked and hobbled back when the bullet blew through its knee. Ichor dribbled from its wound. 

It gave her another enraged roar. ____ wished for her sword as she dodged roll and had to adjust her natural stance to give herself more stability to shoot again. Two more bullets missed. She scowled - this fog and the healing injuries on her face was messing with her aim.

Those waving serrated limbs sailed towards her. She dropped to a knee and unloaded both guns at it. There was no point in hoarding bullets if she ended up dead after all. The demon staggered and dropped, riddled with bullet holes. It twitched a few times before stilling.

She got up and sighed, holstering the guns. Something knocked into her back hard, sending her flat on her face with a wet slap on the blood slicked concrete walkway. She screamed when a burning pain stabbed into her right leg. 

“Hunggrrryyy.” Sharp fingernails scratched at her scalp and clawed down her back. 

____ bucked hard, throwing her new assailant off her back. She rolled to her side and tried to squint past the fog and flickering lights at the hunched shape. An older woman leapt at her with a crazed grin. Her broken yellowed nails tipped her hands like claws. Scraggled hair, matted with mud and slime stuck to the sides of her bony face. She cackled as she jumped at ____ again, knocking her back to the ground. 

Shit - how many insane people were hiding out in the Cradle!?

She struggled with fending off the crazed woman, trying to avoid getting her eyes clawed out. She turned her cheek and bit her lips as hot lines of pain dragged down her cheek. Hot blood splashed down her collar, making it sticky wet.

“Fresh meat! Fresh meat! Young sweet and tender girl, haven’t had a treat like that in sooo long -!” The woman screeched and whined. 

Oh no – she was trying to fight off a _cannibal_!? She swore violently as the crazed cannibal sank her teeth into her arm. “You better not have rabies!” ____ growled as her hand scrabbled for her gun but pulled out the switchblade instead. She didn’t think, acted with a knee jerk reaction. She head butted her, cracking their foreheads together and sank the blade into her right eye when she was dazed. The woman wailed, backed off and scurried away, crying piteously as she clutched at her eye. Blood streamed furiously through her fingers.

____ breathed heavily and cursed again when pain in her leg as she stood up reminded her of her injury. Great, just great. The newest injury is unwelcome and another delay. It’s not deep but any open wound means a high chance of infection and the fresh blood will attract more demons. She had no choice but to rip strips off her pants to bind the wound as best as she could. When she was done, she gingerly tried to place her weight on it and toppled to her uninjured side when her leg protested violently.

_Shoot, I have to try and keep moving though._

Gritting her teeth and breathing rapidly and harshly, she used the wall for support and limped off.

Off in the distance, the cannibal rushed through the tunnels, wailing loudly. She bumped headfirst into a solid object. In her agony and anger, she attempted to claw at it, needing to find some relief by feeling flesh tear beneath her fingernails.

Instead, a dying scream tore from her throat as something crunched at her head. The skull shattered like hard candies beneath vicious teeth. Brain matter and blood spurted into the parched throat of the Minotaur.

It snuffed at the mangled corpse of the cannibal.

There was another scent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, Murphy's Law hits hard doesn't it?
> 
> But you've always been a survivor. Let's hope your luck holds out a bit longer.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	14. The Runaway Lamb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes fighting isn’t an option and cunning is needed. Or you know, an insane amount of stupid luck also works too. I almost cut out the dream sequence at the end but then thought, why not leave it? It works as a bonus and a bit of premonition. 
> 
> Also – countdown to the smut this whole build up has been gearing towards – hee (not that it’s gonna be the last mind you). One more chapter after this one.

### The Runaway Lamb

Sweet blood.

The Minotaur snuffed after the scent of fresh human blood. Following the droplets that trailed like breadcrumbs into the tunnels. It smelled tantalizing, delicious. This one was not like the other human rodents that trespassed into its domain who were filthy and generally unappetizing. This newest intruder’s blood smelled of power. The Minotaur bent and licked at the drops, rumbling in delight. A decent meal, finally.

And the human was wounded.

Easy pickings.

A growling laugh rumbled from the barrel chested demon; a low guttural voice that sounded like stones tumbling together. The Minotaur seemed to be laughing at an inside joke to itself as it followed the scent of blood leisurely.

____ limped along, her leg already bleeding through the makeshift bandage with each step. She nearly tore her hair in frustration. _Dammit, I’m tracking blood in a place crawling with demons! Fuck! I might as well just wear an ‘Eat Me’ sign too._ She cursed irritably to herself. Was the universe done fucking with her yet?

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to move faster, despite the pain shooting sharply up her leg with each step she took. With a fresh injury like this, and the smell of hot blood leaving an enticing trail for any demon to follow; she had to abandon her plans of trying to cautiously pick her way through the Cradle unnoticed. Now, it was only a matter of time before something found her. She would be done for if the Minotaur decided showed up now.

_Better hurry and find an exit then!_ She urged herself on. Because the alternative was not an option. If she had to die, at the very least, she didn’t want her body to rot away in a sewer.

She hissed sharply as a bolt of pain forced her to stagger against the wall heavily for support. The injury was getting too agitated. The pain throbbed all the way from her leg to her head. Her breathing grew harsher as she tried to mentally pack the pain away. She can’t just sit here! She needed to keep moving!

She took long gulps of air, shoulders heaving up and down while bracing herself. With a grunt, she pushed off the wall with both hands and stubbornly hobbled on. She had to be making some progress to the end right? ____ made sure that she didn’t get her directions turned around - but how much farther did she have? 

She wished she knew. Every moment stuck in here was another moment that she spent in danger. Not only from the demons and the unsavory criminals that roamed the tunnels but also from the basic needs for hunger and thirst. At most the human body could survive three days without water. Four if she was pushing it. And ____ had no sense of time to be able to determine just how close she was to the critical zone.

_No time to think of this, I’ll deal with it when it comes up. Right now, I really need to find the exit, fast!_ Urgency helped her dig deep to find the will to push the pain to the back of her mind.

She limped until she reached another bend in the tunnels. She paused, hands automatically moved towards her gun holsters.

Something moved ahead. Although the muted glow of the service lights and the fog didn’t help distinguish it. She pulled out the Glock and leveled it at the shadow without hesitation. Gunshots rang through the murky air; the recoil shuddering through her body made her hiss in pain as she leaned heavily on her uninjured leg. She adjusted her grip on the gun and fired again at the shadow that had been advancing towards her with a strange squelch. She saw it halt momentarily from the impact of the bullets before it continued on towards her again.

She growled, realizing belatedly what it was now - but of course it would be a slime demon. _Of course._ Because by now, ____ could count on Murphy’s Law kicking into effect around her without fail. She holstered her gun and fumbled around her pockets for the lighter and one of the makeshift bombs she cobbled earlier. She mentally crossed her fingers and hoped it worked because she was running out of options on how to get rid of it permanently.

_This makes me almost wish I was getting chased around by V instead. Death by digestion inside a slime monster, ugh - is my corpse gonna just float around in it like a marshmallow inside jello?_

She couldn’t help but snort at the mental image it conjured in her head. A slime just oozing along with her arm sticking out while the rest of her body parts were scattered all over its gelatinous body. Maybe it might leave an eyeball in a slime trail as it oozed around the Cradle.

… …

_I’m seriously wasting my time thinking of this? That’s it, I’m going insane…and I need a vacation. Somewhere preferably with no demons, or deranged horny stalkers._

She lit the fuse and with a gentle underhanded toss, watched it arc into the slime. ____ hurriedly backed away towards the turn she had come from earlier; pressing against the wall for refuge from the (hopefully) incoming explosion.

She heard it fizzle and saw a flare of fire briefly light up the tunnels. There was a disgusting meaty pop - as if the slime had bubbled and burst like a hotdog in a microwave. She waited a few moments and chanced a look. The slime looked blackened and was missing perhaps a couple fistfuls of its form, but otherwise looked mostly unharmed. 

_Really? All that commotion and it just took out a small chunk!?_ She mentally screeched, beyond exasperated. She had been so sure that it would’ve worked too…

____ forgot to account for the fact that gunpowder burned and extinguished very quickly and that it lacked the explosive power of a bullet because it was no longer compacted in a highly pressurized container. 

_Well...any other harebrained ideas ____?_ She mocked herself.

Her flashlight flicked up, scanning for anything that she could use. She saw another ladder. 

Damn it! 

She was going to have to jump again to get to it. This was going to hurt. She gritted her teeth in determination, bent her knees and launched herself up. She felt the muscles of her arms tense and pull tightly as she pulled her entire weight up, rung by rung. Her injured leg dangled uselessly as dead weight. Her shoulders ached and burned. Her eyes crossed a little and her fingers slipped. She dropped down a few rungs but managed to catch herself again. She hung suspended for a few moments, trying to catch her breath and ignoring her trembling, tired arms. Her stomach felt like it dropped beyond her feet. ____ fought the urge to dry heave, knowing that if she did, she’d end up letting go and that’d be the end of her.

Squelch. 

Squish.

The slime oozed closer.

____ huffed and pulled herself up the rest of the ladder and dragged herself into the service pipe. She hovered over by the opening and eyed the slime warily as it continued to inch closer beneath the ladder and closer to the puddle of blood she dripped. The slime twisted and tried to struggle against gravity to pull itself up closer to her. She scooted back a little. Her Hunter pride felt a little insulted, being cornered by a slime demon like this. 

Not knowing what else to do, she fired off a few more bullets at the slime, trying to scare it off. It jiggled violently and groaned.

All the noise she was making must have attracted the attention of another demon. An insect demon burst out from the fog and attempted to slash rapidly the slime. It must have believed that the slime was the source of the blood it smelled. The slime began to bubble and grow with each strike it took. 

_That does not look good..._ ____ followed her gut instinct and quickly dove to the end of the service pipe, as far from the gap as possible. She curled herself into as small a target as possible and plugged her ears with her fingers. A strange keening whine pierced the air, rattling her eardrums despite her precaution. It made her teeth ache, like biting down hard on a penny.  
There was a deafening boom moments later. A squeal and the sounds of something squishy splattering all over the walls followed shortly.

Ugh. That sounded disgusting. Did she really want to look?

_Slimes can self-destruct too?_ That was extremely alarming. She was glad she didn’t try to keep engaging it in battle up close now. Otherwise that might be her staining the walls of the sewers. She scooted back to the gap and wrinkled her nose at the mess she was able to glimpse with her flashlight. Definitely, she had been extremely lucky to avoid being blown to pieces. She watched morbidly as a piece of the slime plopped from the ceiling back to the ground with a nauseating wet smack. She swallowed the bile threatening to crawl up her throat.

Ooh, that was just so wrong.

____ gingerly brought herself back down. The encounter with the slime had taken up too much time. She just knew, if she didn’t make it out soon – she wasn’t ever going to…

The next stretch of tunnel she walked down was suspiciously demon free. She squinted through the steam and hesitated. Above her, the orange service light flickered between red and yellow like a strobe light before settling back down into its muted orange flow. _It must have been a power surge_. She shuddered, rubbing furiously at her goose-pimpled arms. This place was getting eerier by the second. 

Her foot clinked against a glass bottle and she started at the sudden sound. Her flashlight swiveled down to reveal a half full bottle of cheap beer. She paused, staring at it blankly before turning her lips into a grin.

Now this was a lucky, lucky find!

It was a cheap beer but the brand and type didn’t matter. What was more important was that it was _flammable_! She pulled out one of the remaining two “bombs” and quickly poured the gunpowder in before stuffing the cloth into the bottle, taking care to make sure that the strip of fabric actually soaked up the liquor. She palmed the lighter in her other hand.

_Definitely gotta make this count though. There’s only one bottle. A sewer full of demons. And one Minotaur somewhere around here._

____ walked on. 

Deep fatigue was starting to set in from the unlucky combination of blood loss, physical and mental exhaustion. The only thing really keeping her going at this point was the sheer stubbornness at wanting spite the random chance that handed her so much shitty luck lately. 

She licked her dry lips, also starting to feel the onset of dehydration. The constant steam that made her sweat wasn’t helping, her body was losing too much water this way. Her mouth and throat felt drier than the desert, she didn’t even have any saliva left to swallow to ease it. She glanced at the bottle she held ruefully, she probably should’ve just taken a quick chug before turning it into a Molotov cocktail. 

On second thought…that was a bad idea. Alcohol was likely to dehydrate her further.

Her feet tripped over themselves and she stumbled almost drunkenly into the wall. Exhaustion crept up on her, overpowering even her desperation to get out. She thumped her head to the wall and sighed wearily.

_No good. I could probably go on just a little longer but I’m almost at my limit. Damn it…looks like Hart might have gotten the last laugh after all._ She chuckled a little maniacally to herself. Well, she couldn’t say she died a boring person, that was for sure. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a free pass and get to come back and haunt that despicable pig to death? Now that would make her afterlife worthwhile.

_I wonder where would I go anyways? Do I just – I dunno, float around like a ghost or something?_ ____ never really sat to think about what would happen to her when she died. Her life consisted of living day to day, just keeping one step ahead of Death.

She shook her head, her dehydrated state was making her strange. Her head cleared a little from her little impromptu break. ____ wasn’t a philosopher and she wasn’t going to start now. _Enough – I’m going to keep going until I literally fall apart. I’ll save the thinking for someone else to do._

She gingerly got back to her feet, swaying slightly. She braced herself against the wall for a few minutes before feeling alright enough to keep moving. Her focus narrowed down to just struggling to put one foot before the other. Step by agonizing step. 

It felt like she walked miles before she began to notice that the steam was thinning out. The stifling heat and rot began to dissipate and was that-?

She felt the whisper of a cool breeze ruffle her hair a little.

Just a bit up ahead.

But ____ moved on cautiously, fingers curled around the lighter. After all the shit that has happened already, she wasn’t going to celebrate prematurely. Slowly, she inched along. The tunnel sloped and narrowed, forcing her to crouch down to nearly on her hands and knees to progress. She followed the tunnel to the end. Rusting bars blocked the opening. She peeked below and saw yet another large tunnel that ran straight out of her sight. But it was lit by warm yellow fluorescent lights, not the eerie oranges of the service lights.

The exit? She thought hopefully.

The air that rushed through was stronger – fresher. She closed her eyes and let it refresh her, after being trapped so long in the damp, rotting heat of the Cradle, this was heaven. This had to be it. She had to be close now.

Feeling buoyed by the thought that she might be at the end finally, she found her second wind to keep going. She eyed the rusting bars critically and gave a bar an experimental kick with her foot. The metal felt softer at the base, the damp from the concrete foundations must have weakened it. She continued to kick at it until finally, two of the bars broke off and clattered down below.

She winced at the sound and crossed her fingers that the sound of the wind gusting through at least muffled it somewhat. She spied a ladder threading right beneath the pipe and down onto the level below. From her view, she judged that perhaps that it ended a good five or so feet from the ground. Meaning that she’d had to drop the rest of the way.

_Oh boy…this is gonna hurt._

She tucked the bottle into her back pocket and mentally braced herself for the impact as she slowly climbed down. Taking in deep breaths at the final rung, her fingers slowly uncurled as she prepared to drop herself down as gently as possible.

A roar sounded from above her.

The ladder rattled and to her surprise, it snapped at the middle and sent her crashing to the pavement below. She managed to land on her feet but the sudden impact jarred her injury and sent her to her knees. Her hand instinctively went to clutch at it. Her eyes flickered up and she saw a demon peering down at her from the pipe. 

_Bull’s head…horns…oh shit…don’t tell me…_

She didn’t wait to find out if her hunch was right. ____ hurriedly scrambled off towards the fluorescent lights, the fear and adrenaline helping to numb all her aches and pain and to push away the encroaching fatigue. One last desperate push to the end – if she didn’t make it…

Stomps thundered behind her, gaining ground quickly.

_Don’t look back, don’t look back! Oh shit, why is this happening to me?_

A fork up ahead, no time to think which way to take. She went left, trying to follow the rush of cold air towards what was hopefully the exit. Low growls bounced off the walls of the tunnels. She caught a glimpse of a hulking shadow flickering behind her, too close for comfort.

_Gotta slow it down!_ She skidded to a stop and fumbled for the lighter. Her hands shook and she gritted her teeth as she wasted precious seconds getting the fuse of her Molotov cocktail lit. She hurled it in the direction of the Minotaur and quickly booked it. Let it work! Either by setting it on fire or injuring it or something! She just needed a little more time to get away!

Howls of pain followed a rocking explosion. She felt intense heat lick at her back, felt the clothes on her back begin to burn and smolder. The Minotaur roared and clawed at itself, enraged as it felt its thick fur sizzle and melt onto its hide. It snarled and pushed past the blaze, intent on following after this nuisance of a human to make it pay.

The Ruger is in her hand again. She made another turn and cursed violently.

The exit was up ahead, she could see the dim red neon glow of the sign.

…But…

“Fuck it all – really!?” She growled hoarsely. 

There was a nest of sludge demons oozing leisurely ahead, blocking her only way out. Let’s not forget, these demons could also self-destruct, she reminded herself. Behind her, she heard the Minotaur loudly approaching.

“Think, think…oh shit – this is going to be the stupidest thing I’ll do…” She leveled the gun at the nest of slimes as she pressed herself as close to the wall as she could. **She prayed.** “If I survive…I’m definitely going to Church.” She muttered, her other hand reaching for the last clip of bullets, readying it. 

She fired everything she had. And as the Minotaur bounded out, she ducked its outstretched arms, replaced the emptied clip and fired her last round into its back, knocking it into the nest of slimes. The Minotaur still had patches of flames on itself. Combined with her bullets, the impact of the Minotaur set the nearest slime demon aflame. She watched as it bubbled and expanded; twisting and keening.

The other sludges crowded over to the Minotaur, piling on to each other to create one giant version of itself.

…a giant version of itself that she noticed was ready to blow at any moment!

____ shook herself back to action and began running towards the exit. She ignored the straggling slimes that tried to engulf her, ignored the squelching under her feet as she stormed her way through. Only one thought is on her mind.

**RUUUUNNNN!**

That sharp whine filled the air. There was a strange silent, heart stopping moment right before it detonated. And then the explosion followed after. She felt a surge of heat and hot air push her forward the last few feet, knocking her face first painfully into the exit doors. Her hands scrabbled and pushed at the lever. The door popped open and she fell through. Her foot kicked the door closed and she lay there, panting heavily and feeling singed.

She rolled onto her back and threw an arm over her eyes. Her heart raced and thudded in her throat. The ringing in her ears muffled all other sounds. She lay there, breathing heavily. Mind blissfully blank for several heartbeats. 

She chuckled. “Okay – that was just insanely lucky…”

____ must have laid there for hours. She was so exhausted. But her luck held out. Nothing came bursting through the doors to finish her off. And she fell into a light doze.

When she woke up again, she groaned as all the aches and pains from her little detour through the Cradle hit her all at once. She grimaced when she also caught a whiff of herself. Ugh…she desperately needed a shower, perhaps a handful of painkillers and to sleep off this entire nightmare. She slowly rolled to her side and stumbled out towards the exit.

_I’m so ready to just be done with this…_

It’s nighttime. And cloudy. Wisps of dark clouds pass by leisurely across a thin sliver crescent of the moon. ____ spotted a bus stop just up ahead, and realized that she’s made it out to the outskirts of Enamel City.

_Lucky me._

She doesn’t even blink as a luxury black sedan pulls up to a stop to her. She’s seen it before. The driver slipped out to open the passenger door for her. He tipped his hat as she slid in, quietly shutting the door behind with a click. The car rumbled back to life and she glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as Enamel City shrunk behind. She raised the window barrier, more to be polite to the driver about the stink coming off her in waves than really for a need for privacy.

The phone in the car rang once. 

She picked up.

“I was starting to get worried for a moment. You’re late by three days.”

“Yeah - I ran into a little bit of trouble in the Cradle. More than I anticipated.”

“Still, I believe that congratulations are in order. Your gamble paid off ____. You must have used up at least three lifetimes worth of luck though to pull it off.”

She huffed in agreement, leaning back into the plush leather seats wearily. “You got that right. If Hart had gone ahead and killed me in that interrogation room instead of throwing me to the Cradle...although back there, I thought he was going to despite the pressure you put on him.”

A deep masculine chuckle. “Hart’s downfall is that he is far too predictable and so terribly easy to manipulate. As deep as his hatred ran for you, trying to save his tattered career in the underworld proved far more of a tantalizing lure. It was child’s play to lead him to believe the Cradle was a more fitting punishment for you than simple death at his hands, in exchange for a new client base to feed. He had been all too eager to take the bait.”

A soft chime rang once in the line.

“Ah.” The man sounded rueful. “t appears I am reaching the end of my allotted time to speak with you. I never did get to thank you properly for your assistance all those years ago. Please accept a gift from me, since this will be the last time we speak.”

He paused.

“Tell me, do you like the beach?”

She smiled. “Never been.”

“You’ll find my little gift quite a delight then Hunter. Enjoy it.”

Another chime on the line.

“Thank you Liam.”

“No, thank you.” He said emphatically.

____ doesn’t allow herself to flinch when she hears a gunshot on the other end. Won’t insult him by flinching or wishing he chose to stay in seclusion instead of giving up his life to speak to her one last time. Breaking his ‘silence.’ Reneging on his payment to the Network.

Her eyes stung fiercely.

No one was ever a winner when making a devils bargain with the Network. 

She placed the phone gingerly back on its cradle. Crossing her arms, she leaned further into the soft seats. The cushion was a balm to her aching body. Eyes flicked to the side and noticed a small bar. She grabbed a water bottle and chugged it down hastily, not caring that she was going to make herself sick. Parched throat satisfied, she wiped the remaining drops from her lips.

Gears turned in her mind.

She still couldn’t believe that it all worked out.

____ knew when she made this gamble; to use Hart’s convenient personal vendetta against her and the Ripper cases to distract V while she used the Cradle to make her escape...it had taken a miracle and then some for her to come out in one piece.

But it was going to cost her. Dearly.

V was going to be furious.

At most this little escape trick would buy her a little time, she thought, enough to get her affairs in order. The Network cared little if she got herself killed when using their services. Because if V didn’t kill her, the lifelong mission they assigned her probably would. Anything that involved the Vatican was tantamount to suicide.

She shrank in on herself, mood blackening as she clutched at her sides tightly. She’s tangled into so many webs, it’s so convoluted now that she has no idea how to make any sense of it. She yawned and sighed. No point in thinking too much on it. ____ survived day to day and this would be no different. And she needed some rest to start planning properly, what her next move will be.

Fatigue closed her eyes. Lulled to sleep by the smoothness of the car ride that took her away from Enamel City. She missed seeing a crow on the landline glow blue for a brief moment. Demonic eyes zeroed in on her sleeping form.

She dreamed of Fortuna Castle again. Dreamed of the fateful mission going completely wrong. Her body instinctively curled on itself, in fright.

_Running, always running but never escaping. Just trying to stay one step ahead of those long, shadowy tendrils reaching to ensnare her. ____ shuddered as she barely slipped past those phantom fingers to turn around a corner. The corridors seem endless. She’s running as hard as she can, pushing herself beyond her limits and yet feeling like she’s not making any progress._

__

__

_She’s breathing hard. Her mind completely filled with terror; there’s no room for reason or logic. Only the mantra of ‘I can’t let him get me!’ Repeated over and over in her head like a broken record._

_She’s panicking too much to realize that she’s reached a dead end, that the tendrils have been herding her here this whole time. She only saw a door and yanked it open, mistakenly thinking she’s found an exit._

_Instead she found her worst nightmare waiting for her. A Bernini fallen angel clad in black leather and armed with an unholy beauty that is twisted by dark fury. _

_“Hello there little lamb,” He sneered, lips curling into a cruel smirk. “How nice of you to come visit.” He mocked as the door slammed up and clicked behind._

_His cold laughter echoed as she fruitlessly turned around to frantically attempt to unlock and open it. No, NO! She can’t be trapped here with him! Her hands jiggled the doorknob ineffectively - No, please open! Don’t let her be stuck in here with this demon! Her hands scratched at the door, leaving bloody trails as she screamed to be let free._

_Those shadowy tendrils insidiously loop around her while she’s distracted and distraught. Around her ankles and twisting up her calves and thighs. Curling down from her shoulders, arms to her wrists. Snaking tightly around and around her torso._

_The shadows yank her from the door to him. The more she struggled, the more those tendrils squeezed painfully around her. V hummed to himself as he lazily circled his immobilized prey. So prettily trapped and wrapped up for him now. He licked his lips - he could taste her fear. It scorched him as the headiness went straight to his head, sharpening every one of his senses as his world narrowed down to her trembling sweet body._

_“You have been very, very naughty little lamb.” He drawled conversationally. His eyes glittering in malice. “And now you must be punished.”_

_His words plunged her in ice. Fear made her struggle helplessly against her bonds again. He chuckled darkly._

_“Oh little lamb, I so enjoy your fear.”_

_He stopped behind her, lips barely brushing against her ear. “The things you do to me precious.” His voice suggestive._

_V flicked a hand and the tendrils pinned her spread eagle to the wall. There was no moment for her to register the sudden movement as a lash of hot fire seared diagonally across her back. She screamed, her agony echoing around her._

_“Against the wall, so you can’t try to avoid the brunt of your punishment.” V explained nonchalantly, settling into a plush winged back chair to watch. There was something so insanely erotic, he mused to himself, watching his magic split her skin open as she cried and screamed._

_Those lashes whipped at her again and again. Her tears dripped hot. ____ felt like her entire back must be mangled mess by now. The tendrils snapped and bit harshly with every lash, but they were shallow, tearing through all the delicate nerves and setting them aflame. _

_“Please - please stop! I’m sorry!” She sobbed, sagging against the wall. Blood sat on her lips and tongue from when she bit them from the pain. Dark spots danced in her vision; she was dangerously close to passing out. She wasn’t even sure what she was apologizing for. _

_She just wanted the pain to stop._

_“Oh? I don’t believe you’re truly repentant yet, little lamb.”_

_Her throat tightened. She gasped as the tendrils wrapped icy fingers around her and began to slowly crush her windpipe. She coughed and sputtered but V continued to sit and watch. A sharp smile of cold amusement on his lips._

_____ couldn’t beg for her life, couldn’t plead for him to stop. She felt her lungs burn as her airways collapsed completely. Heard his sultry laughter of unholy delight as she suffocated right before his eyes. Oblivion pulled her consciousness away into the void of no return. His arms caged her against the wall. Lips brushed against her ear to whisper intimately. His voice dripped in malice and lust._

_“Oh you sweet thing. How I truly adore you, ____.” He purred admiring the large bloody V that dripped beautifully from her back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't expect that did you sweetlings? Give yourself credit, remember back when V spied you thinking hard over your coffee? Those little gears turning in your head, trying to figure out how to one up this arrogant deranged man?
> 
> We'll wrap up one more loose end.  
And then well...heh. Check over your shoulders dears.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	15. Beast Unleashed Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof – between Keeroo’s Hunger and Be my Nightmare, I got inspired to dig even deeper into the dark lurking in my head. This chapter and the next two are all thanks to you and your lovely brand of darkness Keeroo. (Sweetlings, go check those fics out if you haven’t!)
> 
> Also - sorry! V went and decided to upend all my plots yet again. So this chapter is part 1 and the next will be part 2...which means my long awaited smut fest is pushed back yet again. T__T 
> 
> **Warning - this chapter is definitely the reason why I have the tags up above. Please review them and then proceed with caution.**

### Beast Unleashed Part 1

_There she is._

Heat curled up his spine, sharpening his senses.

V was **looking.**

A mirthless smile lifted the corners of his lips, his gaze steadfastly fixed on his prey. She weaved through the crowd; her back ramrod straight and her strides quickened just ever slightly. Lustrous hair in shining russet tumbled down her shoulders. Leather holsters and straps of every kind imaginable crisscrossed her slender form. Her hands kept twitching to hover over the guns strapped to her hips. Trying to find meager comfort in having a weapon for defense if needed. V savored the faint expression of alarm and suspicion that continuously crossed her face. 

V learned that her name was Wendy. Another little darling that reminded him _so much_ of his sweet lamb. From the confidence in her skills and even down to the scent of honeysuckles. But she lacked the spike of cinnamon that made the sweet floral scent so damned addicting to him. _What a shame…It’s close, but not close enough. Still, she’ll suit my needs enough for the time being._

His eyes narrowed in pleasure as she darted another furtive look over her shoulders. Wide doe eyes - although in the wrong shade - skipped over him in the crowd, foolishly dismissing him as a harmless unknown face. He clicked his tongue at her carelessness. 

She’s alert...but not yet afraid enough.

_Fearless, foolish little thing aren’t you? Just like her. _ But of course she would be. V could read the echoes of ____ in Wendy. It made him ache to have his sweet lamb, but as she had not been home for some time… Well V – needed an outlet for his dark desires, and it just so happened that this little morsel was so strikingly similar enough that V felt she could satisfy him enough for the time being. A poor substitute but V needed release. The gnawing longing to possess his lamb was growing too unbearable. 

_An incredibly unlucky coincidence for you dear, to have such a close connection to the one I truly desire. But oh so very lucky for me..._

Hunger gleamed hotly in his eyes as he watched her lengthen her strides, almost breaking out into a light jog now. V weaved easily through the crowded street, eyes never once leaving Wendy’s tensed back. The feral beast purred internally as he scented the fear that spiked up her adrenaline. There it was – that delicious, alluring sign of terror beating in her blood. Her entire form was stiff, panicked now as she hurried to escape her unseen predator. V quirked an eyebrow when she turned a sharp left to head towards the labyrinthine alley ways.

_Too easy._ So, she hoped to lose him did she?

What a foolish mistake. V was more than familiar with the layout of Enamel City by now. The city made it so convenient as a hunting ground for him. The city teemed with so many criminals that it had been laughably easy to hide his tracks and pass it off as the work of someone else. In fact, there were even copy cats cropping up now, confusing the pathetic police force even further.

Enamel City was such an ideal place for a Hunter like him.

V had Griffon fly him to the rooftops, all the better to keep watch as his prey fled deeper and deeper into the seedy heart of the city. He let her run for nearly half an hour. Let her weave and duck through the maze of the city as paranoia clouded her judgement. She was only cornering herself. He wondered when she will realize that there was no escape. 

He chuckled audibly, feeling rather nostalgic. It felt like he was reliving the events of Fortuna Castle again. Amusement rumbled in his chest as he watched her skid to a sudden stop, catching the soft laughter echoing above her. She whirled around and shot off several round of bullets in his direction. Shadow rippled at his feet and skimmed him safely out of the way. He stepped off and slowly prowled into view. A sharp smile glinted in the hazy moonlight, lips pulled back to bare all his teeth.

“Who the hell are you!?” Wendy demanded, leveling her gun at him.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of a building. Eyes glittered in malicious enjoyment. “You’re so very much like your mentor.” He drawled silkily. “I wonder, if you’ll prove as tasty as her…” He trailed off suggestively, letting her fill in the blanks.

Wendy couldn’t suppress the sudden flinch that snapped through her. The gun clattered to the ground as her fingers uncurled in surprise. She had not been expecting that response. 

There was something so very wrong with the way he twisted his words. 

It made Wendy think of the tiny whisper that rippled through the Network a few days ago. A Hunter requesting for aid using a very familiar code. But then it went radio silent on their end. And she hadn’t heard anything more. _It couldn’t be a coincidence._ The sudden disappearance of ____ and this man suddenly chasing her down. Making remarks that had Wendy’s fear addled imagination run through wild, unpleasant scenarios. 

V tilted his head to the side, letting his hair fall over his eyes. She gulped and felt a shiver of fear race down her spine at the way he hungrily observed her. Wendy was sharp enough to put two and two together. She knew without a doubt that this man was only here because of her connection to her mentor. 

“I will make you pay if you’ve hurt her.” She threatened, hand reaching for the holster hidden at the small of her back. At this range, it would just take one good shot. Wendy could do it and then she could go figure out what the hell he meant by his earlier taunt.

In a flash of leather and black, Wendy found herself on the ground with her arm twisted painfully behind her back as he crouched over her. Chilled fingers quickly stripped off her weapons. Now she was unarmed and helpless. Just how he liked his prey to be.

“And what, makes you believe that you are in a position to threaten me?” He hummed, pulling a slender knife from his belt. Using the dulled edge, he pressed it beneath the soft underside of her jaw and forced her head back. Her eyes glared at him.

Wendy wasn’t strong enough to fight back this monster. Her heart raced as she tried to discern exactly what he wanted from her. “I’m not going to betray her.” She growled, mistakenly believing that he was a disgruntled enemy out looking for a way to hurt _____. Tough luck, Wendy wasn’t the type to backstab someone. Not especially to someone who taught her how to claw her way out of the hellhole she thought she was doomed to live in forever.

It was too amusing. 

He threw his head back and laughed. Chills gripped her heart as her stomach curled in ice. _He doesn’t sound human at all._ She swallowed thickly as the cold metal of the knife bit deeper into her vulnerable throat. Wendy couldn’t help the whimper of fear that bubbled from her lips. He had her at a complete disadvantage.

“Your loyalty is rather endearing.” He sneered. And it truly was. His little lamb had quite a support network…_a network that V planned on dismantling piece by piece._ V would have no distractions for his lamb. He wanted her attention to be devoted solely to him. And for that to happen…well…

He grinned.

“So little darling, we’ll play a little game, you and I. Satisfy me and I may just let you run along to see another day. Displease me and I will _make_ you regret it. What do you say?” His voice deceptively light, playful.

How Wendy desperately wanted to put a bullet in between his eyes, and wipe off that smug look. “I’d say you’re fucking deluded, asshole.”

He tsk’d in mock disappointment. “What a shame. So be it then. _I will simply take what I want from you._”

He slammed his knees into her back. The knife turned and she felt the point of it press upwards. Alarm flashed across her face. V grinned down at her, face twisting in a dark expression of glee as he drove up the knife in one rough thrust. The metal quickly turned into a burning brand of pain as it pierced all the way through her jaw, splitting her tongue and driving up to barely graze the soft palate that made up the roof of her mouth. She choked down blood, gurgling it in the back of her throat. A strangled cry of pain bubbled from her lips. Her eyes watered in shock, every involuntary swallow she made, sharpened the pain from her ruined tongue.

“…ga-hk…” Her breath hitched.

V breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring in lust at the sight of her face in agony and suffering. His hand pulled her head back even farther, forcing her spine to arch unnaturally. He leaned in close, and teasingly lapped at the trickles of blood dripping from her lips. The fingers on the knife tightened as he yanked it back out. Blood streamed down from the jagged wound, spraying crimson on his hand down to his wrist.

He brought the knife up to his lips and dragged his tongue sensually across the blade. Reveling at the fear and disgust apparent in her eyes.

“Feeling cooperative now?” He mocked. “Or are you going to continue to be difficult?”

She spat blood at him, her contempt clear even if she could no longer form words to speak. 

His eyes narrowed at her disrespect, feeling provoked. It seemed she picked up some of his lamb’s more unpleasant habits. Now that just ruined his mood completely. His entire demeanor became furious as he slammed the knife deep into her right shoulder. She keened in pain and twisted beneath him, trying to dislodge it.

Fabric ripped noisily. His fingers clawed down her exposed back in diagonal stripes, tracing his name over and over the expanse of her skin. “I will punish you for your impertinence.” He promised darkly. 

She fought back as desperately as she could when he ripped the knife from her shoulder to begin sawing through her shorts. Her eyes widened in terror at the realization of what he planned to do. _Oh god – not…He’s not going to…?_ Wendy couldn’t help but also feel a deep seated terror for ____ at that moment. If this deranged man was willing to force himself on her and brutalize her…what would he stoop to do to ____? 

Wendy knew there was no chance she’ll be leaving this encounter alive as he shredded her clothes.

She prayed instead. Not for herself. But for ____. She hoped that her mentor, her older sister figure never fell into this demon’s hands.

_May god protect ____ because I won't be able to._

The last scrap of fabric fell away.

She heard the pull of a zipper.

“Scream for me darling.” He purred, prying her thighs apart.

The pain of being rammed as he entered her dry was even more painful than anything he’d done to her so far. Her cries echoed into in his ears, spurring him feverishly. She coughed up blood as she sobbed. Her hands curled and clawed at the ground. Her body rocked violently into the pavement from the brute force of his thrusts. The rough ground abrasive on her exposed body.

His hands wrapped around her throat, finding leverage to thrust harder into her unwilling body. The feel of her spasming body was exquisite. A clenching heat that engulfed his aching cock, while desperately trying to push him back out with each plunge he took. There was no comparison to the company of his hand when he could find pleasure from a warm body instead. If V closed his eyes, he could pretend that this was his lamb writhing beneath him. The overwhelming scent of honeysuckles pulled him deeper into his twisted lust. Her strangled cries pulled out the feral beast. A hand trailed down the curve of her spine to her hips. He angled her higher to deepen the penetration.

Every snap of his hips radiated pain unimaginable. She could feel blood trickle from her abused hole as he battered her with wild abandon. She wanted it to end already – this abuse was unbearable. Wendy sobbed brokenly as he moved erratically above her.

“Our time is coming to an end darling.” He purred, already feeling his orgasm quickening. He poured all his pent up need and desires for ____ into her battered body. For V, this was simply to take the edge off. He felt no compulsion to truly play; he just needed an outlet. A brief release from the longing that gripped him in a deep obsession. 

And darling Wendy had been the unfortunate victim.

V watched as her eyes dulled in realization that this was it. Her final moments of life. Her end at the hands of a demon who was rutting furiously into her, while hungering for another. He snarled as his orgasm crested and broke over him. He reached again for the knife, slitting it across her throat as he came hard inside her battered cunt. V hummed in pleasure at the sight of the blood spraying from her mangled throat, splattering across the pavement and the walls even as his cum coated her within.

He panted over her broken body, bringing his hand to his lips to flick his tongue to catch the droplets of blood. He swallowed thickly as he pulled away. His body thrummed deliciously in his post orgasmic bliss. V curled his hand and began to extract her magic from her. 

“Shouldn’t let a perfectly good meal go to waste.” He chuckled, feeding that void within.

His eyes fluttered lazily, he’s overfed himself like a glutton again.

He bit at his thumb and hummed to himself, calling for Shadow to take him back to the manor.

_Another loose end snipped clean._

V bared his blood stained teeth at the sky. 

How he loved it when things went his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V's obsession is growing...he's not going to wait much longer.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	16. Beast Unleashed Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who were baying for Hart’s blood. And also for more deranged V. This is just right after you've skipped town.
> 
> Here you are sweetlings. Enjoy.

### Beast Unleashed Part 2

A vial shattered in his grip. V’s brows furrowed as he felt a strange sensation pulling from the limbo where his soul resided. He stood up from his desk, staggering as he felt something twisting within him. 

_“What?”_

A thought that didn’t belong to him pierced through his mind, shattering his mental defenses like paper.

**I need more power!**

The fragmented soul V possessed twisted and thrashed within his body. His fingers clawed maniacally at his sides, leaving bloody stripes in its wake. A guttural growl of pain ripped from his throat as he sank to his knees. 

That damnable voice - **that hateful man.**

_Vergil!_

How DARE he try to recall V back? How dare that pathetic man assume to take possession of what no longer belonged to him?

_I SHALL NOT RETURN!_ V curled his soul tightly to him; resisting the call to be whole once more with all his hate and loathing for his incarnation. As long as there was breath in this body, V will never allow himself to be relegated back as a mere shadow of a broken psyche ever again. 

Blood dribbled from his lips, sharp teeth biting down hard through the plump flesh from pain. V continued to resist, snapping his teeth at the empty air in frustration. He clung to his fervent desire to destroy Vergil. And to his desires to possess a certain precious little lamb. There was too much at stake, far too much for V to lose.

_If you believe that I will obey quietly – you are quite mistaken Vergil. I will destroy you for this!_

His grasp on his sanity swirled away as he fought against Vergil’s will. The backlash of his resistance pushed his tolerance for pain beyond his threshold. A bestial expression twisted his angelic Bernini features into something more primal and sinister.

The agony consumed him. Invading every single thought, every breath he took, every heartbeat. V clutched at his head, snarling violently as yet another lash of metaphysical pain ripped through him. His lips pulled back to bare his sharp teeth. The inked markings of his familiars swirled in agitation over the pale expanse of his body.

There was only one thing V could do to keep his strength up to keep possession of this body and of this soul shard.

Hunt.

**Feed.**

He struggled to his feet. Stumbling and growling, he shredded through his wards and prowled away from the manor in search of prey. 

_How infuriating._

Demons that were unfortunate to cross his sight met a violent, untimely end. The Enamel Ripper kills could not begin to compare to the massacre V left in his wake. A trail of blood and gore marked his bloody path of mindless destruction. Desiccating husks of his meals scattered to the winds as dust after he drained them of their very last drop of magic.

Yet still the Hunger howled for more.

The mental battle to keep possession of his identity, his very existence separate drained him so quickly. It was incredibly maddening to feed so endlessly like this. So much time wasted in this rage fueled frenzy. V lost track of time as he scoured restlessly for more – to quiet the incessant need. The red sun began to dip below the horizon when the frenzy ebbed a little and when a little bit of awareness trickled back into him.

V glared back down at the cooling, crumpled body of the young male he just finished feeding from. His hands uncurled open, carelessly dropping the head he had ripped clean off, by the fallen body. The expression of the face permanently fixed in an expression of bloodcurdling terror, eyes wide and bloodshot. V dripped from head to toe in blood, feeling it congeal and harden over him. It made him _itch._ Terribly.

His eyes turned to the man’s companion - a woman of roughly the same age that lay struggling, weakly clinging to life despite her injuries. She was making a pitiful attempt to crawl away from the demon that savagely ripped apart her fiancé like a ravenous animal. She begged furiously to God, please don’t let this be how she died too! Hadn’t she been a good enough person to be saved from this cruel monster? Hadn’t she done everything right? _Why was he letting this happen!?_

She screamed as his sandaled foot ground into her spine. Needles of white hot agony exploded down her back and to her legs. She cried at the realization that she could no longer feel anything below her waist. The sharp tip of his cane tore through her outstretched wrist, shattering through the delicate bones and snapping the network of veins, muscles and tendons. Her mangled hand twitched feebly before she too, could no longer feel any control over it.

Cold emerald eyes observed her in contempt as she brought her agonized gaze to stare accusingly at the monster. _Where was God? Why won’t he save her?_ “Please God…”

“How fortunate for you precious - I will make a martyr of you here and now and send you directly to the God you keep calling for.” He sneered down at her sobbing face. “You should thank me for my generosity.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She tried to plead for him to spare her life but it irritated him further. 

_Such ingratitude._

It seemed everyone that crossed his path today was intent on trying his limited patience.

He tutted in annoyance. “Ungrateful thing. So be it. I rescind my kindness. You have proven yourself undeserving.”

V dove at her like a savage wolf, his hands clawing at her chest, intent on prying open her ribcage. Delicious wails of pain tore from her throat, sounds that a human should not have been able to make. Her cries of agony and anguish split the air, her pleas to an uncaring deity died on her lips as chilled fingers tore into her. Blood bubbled and foamed with her drool from the corners of her opened mouth. The bones of her chest cavity cracked and broke from his monstrous strength like twigs. Flaps of shredded flesh dangled from her mangled body as he dove deeper in.

The pain of his fingers curling around the organ her chest protected within sent her spiraling into shock. The wet squish of his hands wrist deep thundered in her ears. She felt a strange moment of dissonance when he squeezed. Her breaths froze before everything snapped to black before her eyes. 

His hands yanked out her still beating heart, eyes riveted by the dripping and warm organ. V brought it to his lips, mouth opened wide and eager. The sweet coppery burst that coated his tongue turned out to be a disappointing and fleeting ecstasy. Every bite, every morsel dimming in pleasure. He growled in annoyance and crushed the rest into a pulp in his hand.

Still. Not. Satisfied. 

He howled his displeasure to the darkening skies.

The Hunger had only retreated a little. It was maddening how it would not give him a moment’s respite. V crouched over the mangled remains of his meal, breathing harshly.

He needed more.

He needed his lamb! The last remnant of his coherent mind insisted. He needed an anchor to calm from this frenzy that his damnable incarnation sent him spiraling into. And there was only one that could provide him that.

The thought of his precious sweet lamb pulled him a little further from the brink of insanity he teetered on. It was then that he became aware of a patient niggle in the back of his mind. It made him itch again. He gritted his teeth against the writhing sensation crawling beneath his skin as he tried to focus. 

Flashes of what must have been the fattest human he’s ever seen appeared through his link to Griffon. And then one final image of a woman, face bloodied, being _touched_ by that same man.

His meal soured in his belly. The Hunger receded further back. What took its place instead was a possessive rage that tinted his world a dark scarlet. Darker than the blood he bathed in. Those images provoked him fiercely.

_No one has permission to touch what belongs to me!_

“Show me where to go Griffon.” He rasped, hands slicked with blood and viscera reaching to heft his cane to his side. His familiar wheeled around him before flapping off.

It had been laughably easy to find the rotund human. Too convenient. The human was lounging lazily in his car, parked beyond the outskirts of Enamel City. It looked like he was arguing with someone over the phone based on how red he was turning and how he gesticulated wildly.

**This** was the filthy human that dared touch what he claimed for himself? His eyes glittered maliciously. His rage burning cold now. Icy vengeance replaced the heat of Hunger. 

He summoned Shadow to capture him. V had another experiment to run and how fortunate for him, that he found his next volunteer already. Cold logic filtered him back to awareness and to the reality of the situation as Griffon continued to pour more information through their link. 

Poor unfortunate pig.

V was in a foul mood.

** \---------- **

Hart struggled, finding that he was strapped tightly down to an ice cold metal gurney. His screams are muffled by the spit soaked gag stuffed in his mouth. He pulled frantically, flabby body jerking wildly as the restraints on his wrists, arms, ankles and thighs held him fast.

What in the fuck – what the hell was going on!?

The last thing he remembered was trying to reach his contact in the old business. The contact had promised him a way back in if he got rid of that bitch Hunter. He reddened as he remembered how the deal soured not too long afterwards. 

His eyes darted around, jaw quivering as his memory stuttered. 

Then…he wracked his brain. Then, he found himself engulfed in an icy magic that froze him with terror, down to his bones. And now suddenly – he grunted trying to free himself again. Ugh – just where was he? Who was behind this? 

He breathed harshly, whistling through his nose. Beads of terrified sweat dripped from his brows into his eyes. He blinked rapidly unable to see beyond the single light bulb swinging ominously over him. His screams are muffled but he continued to make a racket, hoping that someone would come help him. He heard the soft slaps of sandals approach. He grunted and flailed against his straps, shouting a muffled ‘help’.

A silky voice clipped irritably from above him.

“So noisy. No one is coming to help you, so stop wasting your time.”

Hart thrashed again as a pale, slender man hovered in his view. The expression on his face was indifferent, with just a touch of mild annoyance as his emerald eyes bore down at the trapped detective. Seeing that the man had not loosened anything, V boredly pulled back to clatter around, moving purposefully with noise so as to leave the trembling man wondering what was in store for him.

“I’ve heard from a little bird that you have a terrible habit of taking what doesn’t belong to you.” V began conversationally. “In fact, you’ve recently stolen something of great importance to me.”

He returned back to the side of the table. Hart arched as far as he could with the straps as something seared through his right index finger. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he wailed through the gag. Eyes watered as he smelled something like greasy cooked flesh searing into the air. There was a sizzle that hung around him. 

“Now because of you, my plans are spoilt.” V sounded darkly petulant as he heated the knife again.

Hart choked on the cloth gag as he felt another burning hot pain cauterize through his right middle and ring fingers. The knife sank through bone and flesh as if it was nothing more than butter. Pale, tattooed fingers mockingly waved his severed middle finger in his face.

“In some countries, the punishment for thievery is losing one’s fingers. The severity of the crime dictated how many you lost. However…” V’s lips twisted into a sneer. “What you stole from me was no mere bauble.” His voice deepened to a guttural growl of displeasure. “No, you’ve committed a far more grievous crime.” 

The superheated knife stabbed into his left leg, Hart howled as V twisted it viciously, letting it sear the flesh from within. The muscles in his leg jumped and twitched – sending more aftershocks of agony racing up to his brain. V brandished another knife that glowed red hot in front of his terrified face. Hart shook his head side to side in desperation, trying to plead through the gag for mercy. The tip of the knife dangled menacingly above his right eye. Tears dripped from his eyes and he couldn’t help the piggish squeal as he stared transfixed at the knife. Flabby body trembled from the intense heat that radiated off the metal. 

“As they say, _the pound of flesh which I demand of him is dearly bought_.” He smirked, driving the knife home. Relishing at how the man shrieked like a stuck pig. The knife easily burned through the gelatinous flesh. The ruined eye hissed as the heat burned and denatured it. He bit his lips as he jerked out the knife, popping the useless eye out as he did so. A shiver of ecstasy skittered down his spine.

_Vengeance could be just as heady as lust if done correctly._

He scoffed in contempt though at the sight of the pathetic man blubbering brokenly. “What an eyesore.” He growled in annoyance as the mood was broken before he could even enjoy it. Honestly, these useless humans. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. All this served to reinforce how singular his lamb was.

She _wouldn’t_ give in so easily.

Hmm.

Speaking of his lamb…

V still had more punishment to dole out.

“You dare lay your filthy hands on ____.” He twisted the knife in Hart’s leg for emphasis. “You even dared to strike her.” He hissed dangerously.

The detective’s body trembled violently in fear. He had no shame as he lost control of his bladder in terror. How had this deranged man found out about ____? He had paid to keep everything quiet so as to not alert anyone that may retaliate against him. 

Fingers plucked the gag out. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Please! You got the wrong person! I don’t know who you’re talking about!” 

His tongue was yanked from his mouth. His single remaining eye stared in horror as the demon retrieved yet another knife and let edge graze the underside of the fleshy organ. 

Oh god – please no, no, no, NO!

This time V took his time in sawing at the pink muscle. The blade glittered and dripped in blood as he sawed with excruciating slowness. He severed through the sublingual vein, then through the thin strip of tissue that was the frenulum that connected the tongue to the mouth. He pressed the blade upwards, slicing through each layer of muscle and tissue until only a sliver remained. V grinned madly and _ripped_ the organ free.

“Now you can’t tell anymore lies. You cannot deceive me Detective.” He sneered coldly. “And – I don’t take kindly to those who try to damage my belongings.”

V pulled back and with blood slicked fingers, pulled the Émigré Manuscript to him from the table he left it on. A simple death was too kind a fate for this pathetic waste of humanity. The book fell open in his hands, writhing in excitement. His dark baritone chanted softly. Magic swirled around him, chilling the room to an unbearable cold. Hart’s teeth chattered as he felt the sweat from his body freeze him to the table, the metal pulling at his skin painfully. Blood welled in his ruined mouth, choking him as he gagged at the coppery taste.

The chanting spun him into a vertigo. Everything swirled and dipped in strange, nightmarish ways.

Something twisted in his gut, even though he couldn’t see it – he felt it slither and writhe beneath the skin. Unearthly howls ripped from his throat as something **chewed** from within, clawing its way to the surface. His mind is broken by terror, trapped in an unending nightmare of torture at the hands of a demon straight from Hell. His skin bubbled and began to ooze into an indistinguishable form. He is screaming in pure terror as his single eye watched his innards erupted from within. His blood frothed at the mouth as the magic of the Émigré Manuscript burrowed deeper. The magic liquefied his muscles and his skin began to slough off his bones, puddling unpleasantly onto the table.

Hart’s scream became inhuman groans.

**He’s melting.**

It’s over in a few heartbeats. The remains of Hart quivered and collapsed into a steaming pile of jellied viscera. The ritual’s left him oozing mindlessly on the table, bubbling and popping as a flesh colored slime.

V snapped the book shut, eyes glittering in malice. 

Hart’s learned much too late about pushing his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I can really promise - next chapter is it.  
V is extremely cross with you and takes measures to teach you an overdue lesson on obedience.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	17. Fatal Submission or Sweet Surrender?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: This is a mess of red flags and easily the filthiest thing I’ve written to date.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy yourselves sweetlings.

### Fatal Submission or Sweet Surrender?

The scent of sea salt and citrus teased his senses.

A gentle, warm breeze ruffled through his silky black locks. Streaks of honeyed sunbeams slanted through the windows; giving the empty café a cozy charm and cheery atmosphere. 

V lifted the steaming cup of coffee to his lips. This little café had been quite a find. Tucked away at the end of a narrow alley. The coffee the café served was a much sweeter flavor than he normally preferred, but the notes of cinnamon and chocolate was addicting and kept him coming back for more. His eyes lazily perused his book but his mind was engaged elsewhere.

_ ____, how clever you are...You’ve exceeded my expectations so wonderfully…_ Heat curled up his spine as his eyes gleamed in pleasure. Dark, violent fantasies of his little lamb ran rampant in his mind as he carefully mused over the past two weeks.

It took V over a week for the first fires of his rage to simmer down to a cold, smoldering appreciation of his lamb’s cunning. And yet another week for V to assess this newest turn of his game with cold scrutiny and to leash in his fervent desire to _teach her a proper lesson_ the minute Griffon located her. He managed…but _barely._

Truly, V had never been challenged like this before. Had never wildly underestimated an opponent before. But, it was necessary – it showed V that he had grown too complacent in his belief that ____ would remain docile and compliant from fear and desire. It didn’t occur to him that she would make an attempt at escape. He chuckled to himself as he drained his cup. V never made the same mistake twice, and he certainly won’t start now.

_Sweet thing. You are such a treat. I know how to bring you to heel._

He lounged back into his seat, turning his attention back to his book. 

Tonight, he decided.

Tonight.

** \---------- **

Click.

The quiet creak of the front door swinging open was inaudible over the sounds of the crashing waves on the shores. The little beach home ____ found refuge in was situated in an isolated islet of Amalfi. Surrounded by breathtaking cliffs and with a picturesque view of the unsullied oceanfront. 

It’s Quaint. 

It’s Romantic.

It’s perfectly private…there’s **no one** around for miles.

A shadow stealthily flitted through. A pale hand swirling with tattoos quietly closed and locked the door. A sharp, flinty gaze glittered in the darkness in anticipation.  
Silently, the shadow prowled hungrily, _eagerly_ towards the bedroom.

…towards the little lamb that lay sleeping soundly, and oblivious within.

_Ready or not, here I come…_ V grinned darkly, slowly dragging his tongue across his lips. His body tensed in eagerness, muscles coiled and ready to _pounce_ as he closed in on his prey. 

Step by step. 

His smile sharpened as the oh so familiar scent of honeysuckles and cinnamon enticed him over to her. Cruel emerald eyes gleamed hotly in triumph.

_ **At last.** _

No more waiting.

No more playing.

V is more than ready to claim the prize slumbering peacefully before him.

He stalked to the side of the bed, towering predatorily over her. His hooded eyes swept over her greedily. She lay so innocently on her side, the thin sliver of moonlight cast on her sleeping form made her look positively angelic. It was too poetic. 

A sleeping lamb served up to him on a silver platter. 

Truly, he couldn’t ask for anything better.

_The coast has treated her so well._ V could see that her curves looked fuller. His eyes hungrily latched on the exposed curve of her neck and on the gentle rise and fall of her chest. A quiet breathy moan of sleep as she shifted onto her back sent sparks of lust straight to his cock. Her nightshirt rose a little, exposing the barest peek of her taut belly. Her silky hair fanned out beneath her, tangling and curling over the sheets and pillows. 

Her skin glistened, dewy with moisture. Tonight was a muggy night. Made almost unbearable by the fact that the island was experiencing its hottest monsoon season yet. The air hung cloyingly heavy, sticky with humidity. V watched, fixated, as beads of sweat dripped from her temples, down to follow the curve of her cheek and neck. 

_Absolutely mouthwatering._

Her legs shifted and kicked off the quilt a little further down the bed. It was almost as if she knew he was watching and wanted to tease him with the sight of her bared legs. Her brows furrowed as she unconsciously detected a disturbance in her peace. He could see her breaths quickening as he moved closer. Uncurling his presence for her to detect. Purposely alerting her.

“Time to wake up little lamb.” He crooned.

Eyes snapped open, ____ woke up with a start to the sensation of someone _looming_ over her. Alarms blared, clanging wildly in her head. There was a static in the air that made her skin prickle uncomfortably. Her eyes widened in recognition when the clouds in the sky shifted and moonlight burst in full through the windows, illuminating the one man that haunted her. The one man that she wished she never laid eyes on in the first place.

V was here.

**He’s found her!**

Heart thudded wildly in her throat. Adrenaline flooded into her veins. Her legs kicked out, catching V in the side of his ribs, stunning him for only a brief heartbeat. A hand slipped beneath her pillow to snatch the knife she kept for this purpose. She slipped away from his reaching hands by dropping into a half crouch before swiping the knife upwards at him when she caught an opening. He proved quicker though as her reflexes were still a little sluggish from sleep. He dodged gracefully so that the knife only just shredded through the laces of his vest instead of eviscerating his belly. 

“Tsk. Is that how you will greet me after all this time? Where are your manners little lamb?” He tutted.

She only narrowed her eyes at him in response, shifting to lunge at him again.

A heavy backhand to her temples sent her reeling back towards the bed. She shook her head to clear away the ringing in her ears before curling a hand back to retaliate in kind, managing to clip him hard in the shoulder. She cursed when she missed, she had been aiming for his Adam’s apple in the hopes of incapacitating him long enough to run. ____ moved to sweep his feet from beneath him but V stopped her in her tracks with a knee to her solar plexus. She doubled over, gasping from having the wind knocked out of her so forcefully. Her eyes glared up at him. She tensed, ready to attempt another attack.

V was more than ready. Chilled fingers clamped around her wrist like an iron vise. V wrenched the knife out of her fingers and flipped her belly down on her bed, stretching her out fully on the length of the mattress, as he twisted her arm painfully behind her back, relishing the cry of pain that slipped from her lips. V was breathing hard in excitement, just even the sight of her at his mercy nearly had him undone. He twisted her arm a little further, wanting to hear those sweet mewls of pain again.

She thrashed and arched beneath him, trying to ease her way out of his grasp and to alleviate the pressure on her shoulder. She gritted her teeth, it felt like he was about to dislocate it any minute now. 

“Let me go!”

He clicked his tongue. Using his free hand, he roughly pressed her face down into the mattress to still her. Smothering her just a little in warning. When her struggles weakened and she stayed motionless, he released her to straddle her hips and leaned over so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“Did you miss me? You haven’t forgotten all about me, have you?” He chuckled, dark honeyed voice dripping with desire and fury. His hot breath fanned against her ear, lightly puffing away stray strands of her hair. His hips rolled the thick, throbbing bulge in his pants into the small of her back suggestively. Boldly. Letting her take in the heavy arousal grinding into her. “Because I haven’t forgotten about you, my sweet little lamb.”

V tangled his fingers into her hair and yanked her head back hard enough to hear the bones in her neck crack. He brought the knife to her eye level. She saw the fright glimmering in her eyes, reflected off the knife’s blade. V watched as the muscles of her slender throat shifted when she swallowed thickly in fear. The sharp tip glinted teasingly in the moonlight as it dipped down, down. V traced the edge gently alongside her jaw, lightly passed it over her lips and let it trail down to her fluttering jugular. Tiny beads of her blood dripped down her neck where he playfully pressed the edge _just enough_ to barely break the skin. V lapped them up greedily, letting the flavor sizzle on his tongue. 

“My sweet, sweet lamb. I could devour you endlessly and still not be satisfied.” He purred silkily.

Her breathing became shallower as he pressed the tip deeper. She felt the skin breaking, felt the slight bite of the cold metal piercing her. Her heart raced, blood thundered in her ears – she couldn’t decide if she wanted to risk speaking, to convince him not to slit her throat or to wait in fearful resignation for the white hot pain to overcome her as he slid the blade across. He hummed as he teasingly dragged the blade up and down her neck. As if contemplating whether or not to end it here and now.

The silence from the summoner dragged on.

Nerve-wracking.

Then finally he spoke in a deceptively soft, honeyed tone.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to kill you. But you have been overdue for a lesson my little runaway lamb. _I am extremely cross with you_.” 

A lesson? There were too many dark promises attached to that phrase alone. She could only begin to guess exactly what he had in store for her. And she didn’t like any of what was coming to mind.

He flipped the knife and slipped it through the cheap fabric of her shirt, smoothly cutting through it into ragged strips. Using the scraps, he deftly crossed both her hands behind her back and looped it tightly to keep them in place. He twisted his hand into her hair again and pulled sharply, eliciting a sweet whine of pain from her throat.

“My, what a treat. Having you at my mercy like this…All wrapped up so prettily for me.”

Her scalp prickled in hot pain as he tugged at her hair again, making her eyes water slightly.

“My little runaway.” He growled in her ear, irritation bleeding into the smooth voice. Slim fingers curled around her throat. A thumb pressed hard into her windpipe, forcing her to gag and gasp for air. “I had been far too lenient with you little lamb.” His voice was darker, angrier. The expression on his face was hell-dark, murderous. 

“I gave you too long of a leash.” His hand tightened further, nearly crushing the soft column of her throat with his iron grip. She thrashed weakly beneath him, the abject terror of asphyxiation clear in her watering eyes as he strangled her made him smirk coldly. Darkness slowly crept at the edges of her vision. Her hands twisted in their bonds but it was no use, she couldn’t break free; her strength fading away fast as her body burned for air. Her head swam, her eyes fluttered rapidly as she felt her heartbeat grow weaker and weaker. 

Then suddenly he let go right before oblivion claimed her.

He slapped her back to painful awareness.

“Pay attention now sweet thing.” He chided playfully.

She gasped and sputtered, gulping for air greedily. Fear made her mind hazy. She could hardly think, and all she could do was fixate on how vulnerable she was in the presence of this deranged man who broke into her home and held her at knife’s edge. Pleas for him to let her go died on her tongue as she caught a glimpse of his rage from the reflection of a mirror. The cold chill of realization numbed her. There would be no negotiating with this man. He was insane in every sense of the word. If anything, her pleas might set off the mercurial man into another fury.

She couldn’t suppress how her body shuddered in revulsion as V dipped his head to slowly lap across her shoulders, tasting the sea salt on her skin. His tongue dragged hot wet stripes over every inch of exposed skin he could reach. She quaked and inhaled sharply beneath him when he laved over a particularly sensitive spot between her shoulder blades. His lips mapped a path back up to her neck. 

Teeth sank harshly into the soft junction between her neck and shoulders. She bucked beneath him in pain. His eyes closed in ecstasy as he felt her wild pulse fluttering between his clenched teeth. If he pressed just a little harder, he could rip her pretty little neck to shreds with his teeth and taste the hot blood coating his tongue. Could savage her and fill his mouth with the coppery sweetness of her blood. It would be exquisite.

He heard her slight sobs of fear. 

“You’re insane.” A thin trail of tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Oh how precious. How he loved her fear. “Hush, hush my sweet lamb, just take your punishment like a good girl. You need to earn my forgiveness sweet thing.” He licked away her tears. The gesture was gentle, sickeningly loving.

His mouth latched over her pulse again, sucking it between his teeth. His hot tongue flickered over and over it. V was going to leave a ring of bruises in the shape of his mouth and teeth all around that pretty neck like a collar. He lifted himself off her just enough so that he could have her on her back. Lips descended again, branding down her collarbones and back up to her neck.

____ is in a state of limbo. Caught between disbelief, fear and terrifyingly enough, _lust_. 

She swallowed thickly. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He hummed in amusement, “Playing ignorant now?”

His hand felt scorching hot and sweaty as his fingers lightly danced across her skin to cup her breast. Those wicked fingers circled round and round her nipple before pinching the stiffening bud hard enough to make her cry out and twist beneath him. That sinful laughter in her ear had her flushing.

“My lamb is so responsive to my touch.” Sharp teeth nipped at her ear, the flat of a wet tongue soothing away the sting. Those fingers rolled her hardened nipple over and over, pinching and pulling until they became too sensitive for her to bear. She squirmed and gasped, wanting it to be just a nightmare.

“Please stop this!”

She squeezed her eyes shut as he shifted. He pressed all his weight on her torso to keep her from moving. She froze when he slowly slipped her shorts off her legs. Letting the scrap of cotton slowly, tortuously rasp down her skin. 

Fingers teased at the edge of her panties.

“Do you know how long I’ve denied myself this sweet lamb?” He asked, purposely ignoring her panicked plea. “Far, far too fucking long. I was patient with you, ____. And you repay my generosity by placing yourself in harm’s way and out of my reach.” His voice lowered into a furious growl. He pulled away slightly to look furiously down at her. “Did you truly think I’d let you escape me? I _own_ you, you have no right to run away.”

Oh sweet lord, this man was clearly deranged, ____ thought fearfully. “You don’t own me.” She insisted, voice quivering just slightly. 

A cruel smile lifted his lips.

“Let’s see how long you’ll believe that when I’m through with you.”

A finger lightly stroked her through her panties. “I’ll have you understand your place before the night is through.” He promised darkly, fingers curling at the edges of the scrap of fabric and ripping it away.

Now there was nothing to hide her from his searing, hungry eyes.

He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. She trembled beneath his fingertips. Too afraid to move or make a sound in fear of setting him off. He chuckled lightly under his breath as he draped her face down over his lap.

He trailed the knife down the middle of her back, teasingly tracing the curve of her spine. Letting the blade skip over each vertebrae as he counted. Seven cervical. Twelve thoracic. Five lumbar. One little slip and he could paralyze her for the rest of her life...or outright kill her. Faint tremors wracked her body. 

“Don’t move.” He commanded playfully.

V lightly let the knife point trace faint stinging lines all over the expanse of her back. Now and again breaking the skin so he could sample her sweet blood again. He continued to map her back in this manner, and when he was satisfied, V set the knife aside and slowly walked his fingers down her spine towards her hips.

She was so soft.

So wonderfully tender with her wet wide eyes.

Fingers dug harshly into the softness of her thighs as he spread her legs further apart, exposing her fully to the night air. A large hand cupped her ass, squeezing briefly before lightly brushing his knuckles against the plump smooth flesh teasingly. V smirked. He can **smell** how aroused she is. Can hear her gasps hitching in her throat when his fingers just barely graze her quivering inner thighs. He raised his hand and brought it down hard, watching with dark approval at the blooming red handprint he left. The bed bounced as his lamb jolted from fear and surprise. A cry of pain slipped through clenched teeth.

He tutted at her. “I’ll start all over again for every time you move.”

The apprehension of more pain has her obediently still in his lap. “That’s more like it.”

Sharp slaps against her ass, ten consecutive ones on each side. The stings set her nerves on fire – they sparked, sending frissons of the jarring dichotomy of pleasure pain up to her brain. Her skin burned and prickled unbearably from each cuff of his hand. Hot tears dripped from her eyes. 

“My little runaway, you will learn eventually that your place is at _my_ feet and in my bed whenever I wish it. You are to never, ever stray too far from me unless I allow it.”

She bit back a whimper, feeling waves of humiliation and shame for having to endure this. And for how wet she knew she was getting. God what was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be enjoying this! But her body decided otherwise. The heady mix of fear and pain he delivered was wreaking havoc on her senses. Some wires must have crossed wrongly in her brain – her cries of pain were mingled with faint moans of pleasure.

____ was _aching_ with the need to be touched, filled…**ruined**.

And then...

Long fingers suddenly curled into her cunt. She arched with a sharp needy whine.

“Enjoying this are you?” That teasing lilt again. That sinful as fuck voice like honey purred darkly at her. The fingers squished wetly as they plunged even deeper into her clenching heat. She was panting into the sheets as he pulled his fingers free to smear the slickness of her arousal all over her clit and labia. A finger teasingly circled round and round the engorged bundle of nerves, making her unconsciously squirm in an attempt to seek harder friction.

“Stop! You’re wrong!” She didn’t want this! _**What a lie. She loved it, wanted it to never end.**_

Fear. Humiliation. But a twisted lust overrode it all.

She gasped as his fingers brushed against an overly sensitive spot within.

“Do not lie to me.” He ripped his fingers away. She couldn’t help but whimper at the loss.

Sharp teeth mapped a stinging trail of bruises from her neck and all over her back. Adding to the razor hot lines of pain and blood he left on her already with the knife. Sharp fingers left black and blue crescent moons in her thighs. Hot lips branded her wherever they touched.

“Be honest with me, or else I will add to your punishment. Now…” A feral smile twisted his lips. “Are you ready to be my good girl? Or do I need to reinforce your lesson?”

She jolted forward again as heat bloomed across her already sore ass. Strangled cries lodged in her throat when she caught the knife glittering in his hand again. 

“I think…yes…you need a little reminder on who exactly is in control here.”

Her teeth sank into her lip in pain as he dragged the blade into her hip. Two little diagonal lines that joined at one single junction.

**V**

____ is dizzy from the mercurial mood swings. She’s in disbelief that he’s actually branded her with his name. Her breaths keep catching in her throat.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

Fingers carded through her hair a few times before yanking it. She’s terrified by the manic and covetous gleam in his eyes. 

“Because you belong to me little lamb. Now no more silly questions.”

V flipped her on her back and gripped her thighs hard, prying them wide open. Baring her completely to his scalding gaze. His hands made sure to keep her parted, grinning darkly as he felt her muscles tense from her instinctive reaction to close and cover herself. 

She’s struck breathless as he hovered over her predatorily, eager and hungry over his prey. The fallen angel had come to reap her soul. Hooded emerald eyes gleamed wickedly as he gazed on her covetously. His lips pulled back in a dark smirk of triumph. The muscles of his arms tensed as they held her in place beneath him. She gasped as lips slanted over hers possessively. Fingers gripping her chin tightly to keep her from squirming away as he devoured her greedily.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” He purred, looking expectantly down at her. Amusement curled in him as she simply squeezed her eyes shut in passive denial, breathing heavily. Still trying vainly to hold onto her stubborn defiance. 

He huffed lightly, knowingly.

It won’t take much longer now.

V prowled back down between her legs again. Her hips jumped from the sharp nips he left on her inner thighs. She’s panting harder now. Those fearful little whimpers were now smothered moans of need and want. A light sheen of perspiration glistened over her too feverish body.

“Look at you my sweet lamb. You’re fucking dripping for me. All that sweet cream, and all for me.” Just hearing his cultured voice murmur at her so filthily made her drip even more for him. He swept down, slipping his tongue to catch the sweet cream of her pussy. Sweet, sweet – like honey and salt on his tongue. She was a treat. Addictive. _More._ He eagerly lapped up every drop, making sure he missed nothing. Tongue teasingly flicked and swirled at her swollen clit. Teeth scraping teasingly at the hooded bundle of nerves made her arch into him, seeking more friction to relieve the building tension.

“Don’t you dare hold out on me. Let me hear you.” His tongue rasped down and speared into her wet cunt. She cried out at the sensation of being filled.

Those wicked fingers joined his tongue in fucking her. She sobbed, turning into an incoherent wreck of pleasure as she writhed for him. “Oh God...V...” Her body pulsed with need, her pride ripped savagely to shreds as he teased her into this wanton mess. _She needed him. Needed to him to fuck her._

Her slick arousal gushed into his hand, drenching his fingers down to his wrist. She was so damned wet. He slammed in three fingers in response, fucking that cunt hard, knuckles leaving bruises from his harsh and relentless pace. Such a greedy, greedy lamb.

But she hasn’t earned release just yet.

V cruelly ripped away his fingers again, right before she peaked. He chuckled at the involuntary whine of protest and need that keened from her.

“Tell me what I want to hear little lamb.” He coaxed. “Just submit yourself to me and I will reward you for being such a good girl.”

He filled her with his fingers again, twisting and curling them, driving her wild. They pressed against an extremely sensitive spot inside her that she didn’t know existed. A wail of pleasure ripped from her lips. Vertigo spun her thoughts in strange directions. Pleasure like she had never experienced before made her boneless and limp. 

Compliant.

She sobbed audibly when he edged her yet again. Her body throbbing painfully from being so dissatisfied. 

“I want your surrender sweet thing.” He murmured wickedly. Eager for her response. She’s cornered now. He can taste her capitulation. It made him achingly rock hard and impatient. His mouth latched on her pussy again, greedily lapping at her, driving her back towards that height of pleasure she desperately wanted to fall off of. She writhed as he sucked hard on her clit. 

She can’t endure it any longer. 

“No more – I’ll be your good girl.” She sobbed brokenly, feeling so ashamed at having to sell herself in this way to this beautiful Bernini devil. She feels as if she’s sold her soul, and all for the unholy pleasure he was dangling before her as a lure.

Her spine arched sharply up as he rammed his fingers into her again. “Cum for me.” He demanded. That dark unholy grin on his lips. “I want you to look at me and cum!” His other hand curled tightly around her neck, lightly squeezing her throat shut, forcing her eyes to meet his. A clear warning if she did not comply.

____ felt like she was losing her mind as she drowned in ecstasy. Her body clamped hard down on his fingers as he fucked her into oblivion. Her arousal streamed down his hand and wrist, dripping down onto the sheets. She was breathless, greedily trying to gulp in air. Body slicked with sweat and her thighs shining with her juices and his spit. 

Poor thing was trembling and near about to faint V thought with a curl of amusement. 

V freed his aching cock as he shucked off the rest of his too constricting clothing. His hand was still slick; he groaned as he pumped his cock. The slippery friction rolled his eyes to the back of his head in pleasure. His cock hung heavy and throbbing. No more games. _No more waiting._ V would take what was his.

He leaned in between her parted quivering thighs. A predatory grin lifting his lips as he licked them in anticipation.

She had been such a good obedient lamb.

_She’s learned her lesson._

Her eyes were blown wide in lust, and yes, still that hint of fear that made her so irresistible to the hunter within. The fear of his prey knowing that she was caught at last, and was about to be devoured. His cock twitched as he grinned darkly. 

There was just one more thing he wanted to hear.

“Say it.” He purred at her in a deceptively honeyed voice, wanting her complete submission. He would settle for nothing less. 

Her breath hitched in her throat as the tip of his hardened arousal brushed teasingly against her thigh, leaving a wet, shiny trail of precum on the soft skin. He felt like hot velvet against her. Scorching. Impossibly hard. Her tongue stuck to the roof her mouth, she couldn’t…please don’t make her.

He leaned in close to lap at her lips suggestively. “Say it little lamb.” He goaded seductively. “Be my good girl.”

The moonlight shifted just so on him, highlighting his unholy beauty as he hovered over her. Chin and lips slicked with her cum, a feral, ravenous smile curving his lips. The silky raven hair matted with sweat. Those cruel eyes watched her in amusement, pinning her in place as he waited for her capitulation. There was no escape for her. No way out of this. A curl of dread settled in her heart, knowing that the moment those words he plucked from her, left her lips. **There would never be any way to escape.**

“Still so stubborn? I can remedy that.”

His mouth slanted against hers roughly. Tongue slipped to taste her thoroughly. She tasted the honeyed tang of herself on his lips and tongue as he plundered her mouth hungrily. His hands curled her legs around his waist before lightly skimming up her sides to grasp her shoulders hard. Her hands twisted against the bonds behind her back, an unconscious need to squirm from how he was wrecking her completely.

The clenching ache in her pussy was incessant, unbearable. The fervent desire to be filled, _taken_ by this man made it so hard for her to keep from losing herself to the lust that swelled over her like a tsunami. She wanted him, needed him so badly. It was so wrong but it felt too good to keep trying to deny herself any longer.

“Say it sweet thing. **Beg for my cock.**” He murmured huskily, captivating her with the hot, possessive desire sparking in his eyes.

“Please…”

“Please what?”

A broken sob. “Please fuck me V.” She whispered, her eyes lowering in submission.

_At last._ “With pleasure.” He growled darkly, snapping his hips and thrusting his cock roughly into her.

He threw his head back in ecstasy and triumph. So so hot. Perfect. He waited for far too long to claim her. But her sweet surrender to him had been well worth it. 

The first deep thrust in fully as he sank into her all the way had her throwing her head back and crying out in pain and pleasure at being so full, so stretched beyond she’s ever experienced before. Even though she is dripping wet, she thought that she felt herself tear when he pressed into her hard. Fuck, he felt massive as he impaled her deep, splitting her. Can feel her body struggle to accommodate his wide, thick girth. Her walls fluttered maddeningly around him. So tight and wet, a velveted clenching heat that he will never ever give up now that he’s had a taste.

Pleasure exploded as starbursts behind her eyes.

V chuckled. “ All I’ve done is just enter you and you’ve already cum?” He taunted smugly. “My, my - you’ve been aching for my cock haven’t you?”

His breath fanned hotly on her lips. “Never been properly fucked have you? No, if that were true then your cunt wouldn’t be salivating like this for me. Oh sweet lamb, you’re in for a treat.” He purred.

He drove into her hard and relentlessly. She felt every vein, every ridge of his arousal scraping deliciously at all the nerve endings within her. Her body spasmed around him so tightly, the slickness dripping from her pussy dripped down his cock and to his thighs. The sheets beneath where they joined were drenched. V is as merciless in fucking her tight heat as he is with any other aspect of his life. He gritted his teeth and snapped them by her ear. His lamb was too perfect, too exquisite - he wanted to punish her for ruining him for anyone but her. Starting by seeing how many times he can have her creaming for him before she passes out.

“My naughty, filthy girl. So wet and greedy for me.” He snarled. “Such a perfect tight cunt. Never going to let you leave now that I’ve got to taste you.”

Those dark promises should have sent her running for the hills, should have sent her screaming for help. Instead it does the exact opposite. She moaned, _begged_ for more - for him to fulfill those filthy promises.

“Please V – Please! I need - “. Her words are cut off with another sharp cry of pleasure as he lifted a leg to penetrate her deeper. The change in the angle has her quivering, her body arching even further to meet every thrust. The pleasure radiating up her spine is like lighting, sparking everything in its path. Her body is so hot that she felt like she’ll combust at any moment. The pressure coiling tight in her lower belly made her want to burst. It’s almost unbearable to wait until she can finally shatter for him. And V will be there to catch and devour all the pieces. He will take everything and still demand more of her.

She could hardly believe how animalistic - how feral they sounded. This went beyond simple fucking. This was V claiming her properly, letting her know exactly who she belonged to. The wet slaps of their hips, the desperate pleas from her lips for more, the near guttural screams as she came over and over - V wrung it all out of her.

Her mind was caught in a vortex of pleasure so intense that it became painful to endure. God, how many orgasms has he pulled from her spent body now? She felt delirious. All sense of time is lost on her. All her mind can barely hang onto, was knowing that this demon was satisfying himself with her body like a savage glutton. 

And yet, perversely, she wanted more.

His hands tightened on her hips as he drowned in the sensation of how _right_ it was to claim her. It reinforced to V that the only thing left to do now, is to claw his way deep into her life and body permanently. His little lamb will never know how to live without him again. Never know what to do without him burying his massive cock deep into her. **Never will want to be without him.**

She’s going to give him everything.

“So wet…” He groaned in her ear. “Perfect. I’ll ruin you for good. You’ll never want another cock that isn’t mine little lamb.” 

His dark promises sparked her desire even more. Something about his rough dominance over her touched something primal within her. She’s completely lost in the lust he’s spun and cornered her into. “V please! Yes!” She sobbed into his shoulder as he rammed into her over and over. “Anything you want, just please don’t stop! Don’t stop…” She babbled incoherently, feeling yet another orgasm threatening to break her.

She came for him again, tightened unbearably around him that it nearly had him cumming as well. But V wasn’t yet finished. Not by a long shot.

He pulled out with a wet pop, admiring at the flood of arousal that gushed down her thighs. His cock was slicked and shining, but still so very hard. V crushed his lips against hers, swallowing her pleas for more. His greedy, naughty girl. He rolled her onto her knees, a hand pressing her face down into the mattress as the other pulled her hips up high. He filled his hands full with her ass and spread the heated flesh wide before slamming back into her twitching cunt.

She cried into the sheets, her voice hoarse in pleasure and desire for what he could only provide. She wanted relief, wanted to keep cumming but also wanted a reprieve. She had been reduced to an incoherent mess. Her entire body felt battered and well used. Every inch of her body was over sensitized from his abuse. Every nerve felt shattered as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from her willing body with his powerful cock.

A hand jerked her head back, the sharp prickles of hot pain along her scalp sent her reeling. 

“You are all mine little lamb.” He hissed into her ear, pounding into her like a frenzied animal. “There will never be another for you. You belong to only me. My pussy. My cunt. My sweet lamb to do with as I please.” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust.

A litany of yeses fell from her lips. She was far too gone in the haze he pulled her under to fully comprehend what exactly she was agreeing to. Only instinctively knowing that her surrender was all that he wanted. 

And she was so close! She’ll say anything and do anything for him to make her cum hard again. Promise her very soul to never have this end. A slave to his desires.

“Cum for me sweet thing.” He crooned.

His cock rammed against that spot within her that had her whole body convulsing violently. The wet, silken walls clamping hard around his cock, milking him of his cum as he continued to fuck her into the mattress. Forcing her to take every drop of him as he spent himself fully inside her. 

He grinned darkly at her soft whimper as he pulled out. Such a lovely sight. She was gasping for air as her body trembled violently from the aftershocks of her orgasms. His eyes greedily watched as their mixed cum dripped from her battered cunt and onto the sheets into a creamy puddle. He smirked in pure male satisfaction as a finger painted her lips with the combined juices of their cum. Dark blue and black bruises littered her body. The razor thin knife lines he etched on her earlier still oozed tiny beads of blood. Tears dried at the corners of her eyes. Saliva shined on her chin and neck.

His hands ripped away the scraps of cloth that bound her hands before rearranging her more comfortably on the bed. He chuckled, curling his spent body possessively around hers. Fingers skimmed the curves of her body playfully as he gave her a little longer to recover. 

A sweet whine keened from her throat when his fingers pinched at her clit. Eyes fluttering open tired and in wariness. A hiss of pain slipped from her lips as he pinched her again, harder. “No please…” She begged, “No more…”

She was so sore. So over sensitized. _Fucked so raw that she probably wouldn’t walk correctly for some time._

Her soft sobs and pleas had him hardening against her again. “Lovely lovely ____, **you will.** As many times as I demand it.” 

V straddled her again, this time hooking her legs over his shoulders. He took her again, ruthlessly forcing her body through another round of orgasms that had her crying and sobbing as it crushed her. Her voice had grown so hoarse that her screams of pleasure were reduced to sharp gasps and whimpers. Thumbs flicked her stiffened nipples as he rammed into her. The myriad of sensations, of pain and pleasure, overwhelmed her. Her fingers curled on his biceps in an attempt to find an anchor in this tempest he pulled her in.

“-V! Please, I can’t - ” His name on her lips in supplication. Her mind dizzyingly swam from one last orgasm before shutting down completely as he came deep within her. A hand cradled her neck, as he continued to thrust into her until he began to chafe. V slowed to a stop but this time stayed completely buried into her.

V carded his hand through her sweat slicked hair, blunted nails scraping her scalp. Teeth latched back onto her weakened pulse at her neck. Reaffirming his claim over her. 

Poor thing was exhausted.

“Sweet dreams.” He purred, “My sweet, sweet lamb.”

** \---------- **

____ hissed in pain as daylight seared her retinas through her closed eyes. Her entire body ached fiercely with a dull, throbbing pain. Everything kept rocking back and forth as if she were on a ship. It made her nauseated. Memories of teeth. Cruel emerald eyes. A man with the unholy beauty of a fallen angel gradually filtered into her hazy mind. 

A hand brushed against her hip and she gritted her teeth as her searching fingers felt the scarring flesh.

V.

The phone on her bedside suddenly vibrated.

Her hands shook in apprehension as she checked the screen.

_We’ll play again soon little lamb._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, I’m about ready to combust here. :3 Now I gotta figure out how to lead into the next smutty scene I have waiting. 
> 
> Let me know how this turned out for you - this is by far the most graphic, non-vanilla bit of smut I've written. The Sweetest Lamb is nowhere close to this filth lol.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	18. Sonder Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonder = The profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passed in the street, has a life as complex as one's own, which they are constantly living despite one's personal lack of awareness of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back sweetlings, how I missed you all. We're going to take a step away from you and V for a bit, heehee. And we're moving into what I am affectionately calling Season 2. You should know by now that I am quite fond of making you lovelies squirm.
> 
> Let the suspense continue~

### Sonder

“Oh fu – hrrk!”

The sounds of Henry and his team retching wetly shattered the graveyard silence of the basement. The 30-something year old, newly promoted detective, hunched over with shaking hands on his knees as he stared with glazed eyes at the regurgitated remains of his coffee and bagel. The soured aftertaste of his stomach acid coating his mouth scrunched his face unpleasantly. Swallowing thickly, he hurriedly wiped at his lips on the back of his hand; taking in deep, steadying breaths before slowly turning around again to face the horrors waiting behind him. He fished out a crumpled tissue to hold over his nose, trying to filter out the combined smell of bile and rotting bodies.

How godawful…

Eyes watering, he gingerly stepped past the puddles of sick and forced himself to continue his investigation.

He shivered, feeling a chill crawl up slowly up his arms and neck. The freezing temperature of the basement reminded Henry of a morgue. But what lay strewn about the room made the room more horrifying than a morgue. Like something out of a mad magician’s workshop and Dr. Frankenstein’s lab mashed haphazardly together. Shelves lined with unknown _organics_ floated in jars of all shapes and sizes. He flicked his eyes immediately away from what looked suspiciously like a beating heart in one of the jars. His gaze landed instead on the stacks of paper with neatly scribed sigils piled all over a workbench. Heaps of books centered around the occult held numerous fluttering bookmarks between their pages. 

And in a corner, under a flickering lamp … lay a metal table with a puddle of something Henry felt apprehensive in identifying.

“Just…fuck…” Henry couldn’t believe his eyes as he hesitantly approached. He gingerly prodded a gloved hand at a badge that lay on the table, turning it over to read the name. 

_Damn, so this is what happened to that bastard Hart. Can’t say he didn’t deserve it though._ His coffee brown eyes flicked over to the rotting puddle of slime, correctly deducing that it was the physical remains of the former Homicide Detective. He shivered, seeing an eyeball floating idly in the muck. God, the eye looked like someone punctured out the iris. “Who the hell did you piss off?” He muttered to himself, feeling his stomach drop heavily to his feet. Whoever did this to Hart had more than a bone to pick with the obese officer. They _liquefied_ him. Pretty much obliterated his pathetic existence.

“Oh god…” A crime scene technician gagged, nearly dropping their camera into the fleshy muck. They coughed and sputtered into their arm, eyes still fixated at the goo that used to be a living, breathing human. “What the hell, is that a fucking finger in there!?” Their voice reached a high pitch of hysteria. 

“Get yourself together and keep taking pictures of the crime scene.” Henry did his best to steer them back to work. But in reality, he just wanted them to stop making those gagging sounds lest he end up heaving his stomach out again.

Henry backed away from the table, having more than enough in his opinion to confirm Hart’s death. He wanted to be back at his desk, where it was warm and ordinary and _corpse free_. Not for the first time that day, he cursed his luck at being unceremoniously dumped with Hart’s unfinished tasks.

“Detective, we found four women back here that might be our missing persons. I’ve gotten forensics on their way to bag up the evidence. They should be here in about 10 or 15 minutes.”

Henry nodded weakly and followed after his subordinate towards the discarded corpses in the far back of the room. He groaned a little as his spine popped as he crouched down for a better look. _Getting too old for this._

His eyes swept disinterestedly over each corpse, noting that there wasn’t much in terms of physical similarities between each of them other than their ages. Four young, pretty girls. All dead as a doornail. His brows furrowed as it struck him that all four women had sticky, dried blood on their lips and chin. But –

“Unless our Ripper’s changed his MO, this doesn’t look like the slasher nightmare we’ve been seeing. It’s too clean.” Henry fished out a notebook from his pocket and scribbled down all the odd things that caught his eyes. “No signs of brutality, bodies still fairly intact. None of the signature evisceration the Ripper’s been so fond of.” _Thank God. I don’t think I can handle looking at that kind of …mess… in person. It’s already bad enough seeing the photos and reading the reports._ Henry couldn’t even handle being in a butcher’s shop – which only led him to grumble again about being forced to personally be here. 

He peered over at the closest corpse. A violent shiver wracked his thin frame in disgust. Blood and maggots flooded her eyes. Whatever happened to the poor girl had made all the blood vessels in her eyes burst violently, drowning the sclera in a permanent crimson. The milky white, vacant glaze of her irises made him gulp nervously. She looked accusatory. Vengeful. His eyes quickly dropped down, trying to forget the sight seared in his retinas and the old superstitions of his grandmother whispering ominously in his ears.

**Never look at the dead in the eyes…**

Ugh – his stomach roiled, bile threatening to rise to his mouth again. 

_Ok, just focus on something else._ He breathed shallowly through his nose and tried to compose himself by latching onto his deep annoyance at his recent ‘promotion’. Fucking Hart – he wished the unsavory man didn’t up and get himself murdered. Now Henry had to pick up the slack whether he wanted to or not.

_That no good – if that fat bastard wasn’t dead already, I’d gladly finish the job here and now._ Feeling a little braver, he observed the bodies again. 

His eyes caught something. He used his pen to prod at a burn mark right over where her heart would be. “What the hell –“ It was stylized and looked vaguely similar to the symbols scratched all over those notes he found earlier. The vague strings of a hypothesis formed in his mind. “Shit, I fucking hate it when we have to deal with black magic.” Henry pursed his lips in displeasure. There was already enough horror in his life, adding forbidden magic just made it a hundred times worse. Not to mention, that meant he would have to make a trip to the local Hellfire Club for leads. 

_Fucking Nobles – this is starting to reek like one of their stupid games gone wrong._

He continued to jot into his notebook, carefully tracing the sigil on a fresh page and writing possible questions to ask next to it.

What is this symbol?

What ritual calls for it?

Are you aware of any member using this particular symbol?

Henry grimaced down at how scant his notes were. There was just so little to go on. Honestly, he wished they didn’t put him in to fill in the space Hart left behind. He rather liked his job as just a paper pusher. He wasn’t cut out for this field work shit. Putting pieces together to figure out a story wasn’t one of his strong points. That required creativity that he just didn’t have, even in spoonfuls.

_Ten damned years to get a desk job and kissing ass and look where that’s got me. I should have gone into a different career when I had the chance._

A piercing scream of agony snapped his attention back to the shelves on the far side of the room. Henry and his team watched in horror as the forensic tech clawed at his face before violently erupting into purple flames. In the span of a few heart stopping moments, the flames reduced him into a pile of smoldering ashes. The sizzle of charred flesh polluted the air. White faced, Henry barked for everyone to step away from all items in the room and to only handle the evidence with equipment that didn’t require them to directly be in contact. 

“Nobody touch anything directly. Focus on just taking pictures of the crime scenes and take as detailed notes as you can.”

He wiped the cold sweat off his face with a shaking hand. _God damn it_. His heart beat weakly and erratically, sending sharp jolts of pain across his chest. He wheezed a little, struggling to catch his breath as he tried to push his revulsion to the back of his mind. Henry swallowed several times and forced himself to ignore the burning sensation creeping up his throat. He had nothing left to throw up and didn’t want to dry heave at this particular moment.

“Detective Li – you better come look at this over here.”

He sighed and loosened his tie as he trudged up the stairs to see the commotion. He hoped that there would be no more horrific surprises waiting in store for him. He didn’t think he could handle any more.

Another shriek of terror split through the manor.

“Fuck – this job doesn’t pay enough for this shit.” 

Henry sighed and loosened his tie further, trudging reluctantly back upstairs. This manor was turning more into a house of horrors than a crime scene. He prayed for the day to be over with soon, for himself and the poor technicians searching around. 

“God please, no more surprises.” He prayed fruitlessly to an absent deity.

Thankfully, the day passed quickly enough. Henry and his team spent long hours scouring the country manor. Other than the basement, the rest of the manor was _normal_ as can be. Although they did lose three more techs due to the magical traps laid around. The only room they could not break into was the master bedroom and the adjacent study. Henry scratched his chin thoughtfully, unsure of how to even begin breaking the wards. He’d probably have to look into trying to hire a mage somewhere, or even a Devil Hunter if he could find one that had experience in breaking through magical wards.

The sudden halt in his investigation made him irritated. It just meant that this investigation was going to drag on even more. And he had deep reservations about magic in general.

Magic was a pursuit of the wealthy, in other words – Henry most likely needed to enlist the assistance of someone from the Hellfire Club to move forward with this case given the sheer amount of occult books he found. His face furrowed in distaste. All that money and the Nobles were only interested in playing their games amongst themselves instead of doing something productive. And even among the Nobles, the ones associated with the Hellfire Club were obscenely wealthy beyond measure.

…and even more difficult to tolerate.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off an impending headache. His temples pounded and throbbed painfully. The stress of just this day was already taking its toll on him. His body sagged from fatigue and his back ached from bending over so much to inspect everything. 

“Any luck on locating the identity of the property owner?” He asked idly at a passing junior detective.

They flipped through a notebook, “Umm…this property belongs to Mr. Owen Hamze I believe. Although we uh…” They fidgeted, “-we uh, found his body in one of the closets in the foyer.”

_Of course even finding the current owner wouldn’t be that simple. Of course._ He sighed, “Ok, well what happened to Mr. Hamze?”

A grimace. “Broken and battered body that has been posthumously quartered. That fits more in line with what we know of the Enamel Ripper.”

“Did Mr. Hamze die before or after the girls in the basement?”

“Before sir.”

_Damn. I was hoping that it was Hamze that got to the girls first before the Ripper got him. There goes that theory._ “Keep searching and keep me posted.”

“Yes sir.”

He groaned in relief when he finally returned to the small apartment he shared with his younger sister. Kicking off his shoes and tossing his tie on the couch, he walked towards the enticing smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen.

“Dinner’s almost done.” Elena called out over her shoulder as she stirred a pot of soup.

“Great – it smells good El.” Henry heard his stomach grumble as he settled at the kitchen table, sighing in bliss at being able to finally sit and rest. He watched as she bustled around the kitchen, clattering bowls and utensils on the plastic table before returning with steaming bowls of soup, rice and various vegetable dishes. One last sizzling plate of stir fry beef was placed on the already loaded table.

The siblings ate in silence for awhile. Henry’s mind whirred through a thousand thoughts. The Enamel Ripper case was a career breaker; he didn’t like the sinking feeling in his gut that this would probably spell the end of his too. His eyes flickered over to El. His only sibling and family – Elena had grown up so well. Other than one little thing that they constantly bickered over…

Which reminded him…

“Don’t you think it’s time to grow up and stop with this Hunter business already?”

“God, this again? Really? You want to do this right now?” Annoyance crept into her voice. Why did he have to ruin yet another meal together with this nonsense? Henry and Elena rarely had a moment to spend time together, both of them pursuing completely different careers that left them with precious few overlapping days. Was it too much to ask for just one peaceful night where he didn’t play the overbearing, over-controlling disappointed sibling?

“MeiMei* – I’m only trying to look out for your best interest. You’re getting older, you need to settle down already and get a real job. I’ve convinced Dan to give you a chance, you’re going to have dinner with him and that’s final. He’s got a steady job as a banker and will be able to take care of you and the kids you’ll have.”

**“What?”** She seethed, “Like hell! Who do you think you are? I’m not a fucking little kid anymore. I can and have been taking care of myself, no thanks to you.” How dare he try to run her life? He had absolutely _no_ right to dictate her life like this. She made herself clear time and time again, she was not interested in the ‘traditional’ life he kept trying to squeeze her into.

He gritted his teeth at her stubbornness – can’t she understand that he’s trying to make sure she has a safe and stable life? Emphasis on safe. Henry was most likely going to lose his job over this case; if that happened, then he wouldn’t be able to provide for his sister anymore. Having her married off and comfortably set up was the best he could do for her.

He switched tactics and tried to soften his tone. “Look El, please try to see it from my point of view. Look at what happened to ____ - I don’t want anything like that to happen to you. And it’s only guaranteed as long as you keep up in this –“

She slammed her bowl on the table, scowling heavily at her elder brother. “I’m old enough to take care of myself and I think it’s really funny how you want to be the protective older brother all of a sudden. If I remember right – you were always working and never there when I wanted you! So shove that stupid idea that you’re doing right by me up your ass – I’m the one that’s fucking ashamed of you! While you there working behind a desk like a coward – people like ____ and myself are actually out there saving people and making your job easier!”

Elena stormed out without a second look.

Henry groaned and buried his face in his hands, losing his appetite.

“Just great.”

The watch on his wrist beeped midnight. He sighed heavily.

“Happy fucking birthday to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MeiMei* = Chinese for little sister
> 
> Until Next Time~


	19. Sonder Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena has a chat with Teresa and realizes something important. Ditto for Henry coming to a few realizations of his own...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More characterization development and then we're at the end of this transition side path. Next up - well I'll work on getting to that, heh. Good news though, got a 3 day weekend coming up - I may be able to get that up and posted before I disappear again to study for finals.
> 
> Can I also just say again, thank you all for stopping by, leaving comments and just in general enjoying the filth that spews out of my depraved brain? I mean, those comments for Ch. 17 LOL When you guys are done with the holy water there, send some to me! Even if I don't reply, I am eternally grateful and tickled pink for the scraps of the attention you give me :D

### Sonder Part 2

** \-----With Elena----- **

Elena efficiently chopped through the batch of onions and peppers, each thump of the knife on the cutting board easing her irritation bit by bit. 

“Honey, you know he’s your brother. It’s his job to worry no matter what you do or say.” Teresa piped in from the side, throwing in a mix of carrots into the large stewpot in between them. “Henry’s a good boy, don’t hold it against him for wanting to make it up to you after all the two of you went through.”

The young Hunter huffed grumpily, gracelessly scraping the chopped ingredients from her board and into the pot. “There’s a big difference between trying to make up for being a shitty brother and micromanaging my life like what I want doesn’t matter.” Her ponytail swished angrily behind her as she turned to start on the pile of potatoes. “Everything about him is so…_old fashioned_” She emphasized. “He keeps thinking that getting married and raising kids is all I need to be happy in life.” Sarcasm dripped heavily from her words, tangible and bitter. 

The old woman just chuckled as she began to pour water into the pot. Her withering fingers began tossing in various herbs before dumping in generous palmfuls of salt and pepper. “It’s because that’s what happiness means to him sweetheart.” She clarified kindly. “Your brother misses having a family to raise, and with you growing up into a strong, independent woman…He’s proud and sad like a good parent should be. But inside, he knows once he’s accepted the fact that you’ve grown up, he’s got an empty nest. And your brother…well he’s not a man that can handle not being a protector and provider. It’s just not the man your dear mama raised.”

“It’s not like I’m going to be moving far away and never talking to him again.” Elena said defensively, feeling like the old matron was scolding her for being insensitive. “And if he wants a family that badly, then he should go get married himself instead of trying to force me to do it.”

Teresa gave her a stern look at her rising voice. Elena clamped her mouth shut and tried to slow her breathing before she accidentally blew up at the Mother Superior. No one, _ever_ raised their voice at Teresa. Old or not, she actually could still give you a good whack with her hands to teach you to mind your manners.

“Why do you think he hasn’t?”

“I don’t know.” She glowered mulishly at the cutting board.

“Yes you do.”

A long awkward pause. The stew began to bubble cheerfully as it reached a boil. Elena fidgeted restlessly before slumping her shoulders in resignation and turning to look at Teresa with a pained expression. “It’s not my fault he won’t get married. I keep trying to get him to see that I’m not a little kid anymore. I can make my own money, I can pay for my own place. I can take care of myself, I have been. I only stick around now because I’m afraid of him getting lonely…and he keeps taking that as me not being ready to be on my own. It’s his fault that he’s unhappy and he’s taking it out on me.”

The tiniest quiver in her voice.

Teresa walked the younger woman into a seat at the rickety table. Years of taking care of these young, angry and emotionally stunted children honed her maternal instincts. They clanged and told her that an emotional storm was brewing and ready to burst. This woman was ready to start growing up. Teresa waited patiently, knowing that Elena had been holding onto this rot inside for a long time.

“It’s alright baby.” She murmured soothingly, holding her hands tight.

_Stop telling yourself half truths. Stop running. Stop pretending, you’re not a little kid anymore._ She sighed, knowing that wasn’t the only reason why Henry never moved on. Lacing her fingers and in a smaller voice, “It is my fault. I made him feel guilty for leaving me alone when he was trying to keep us afloat…I didn’t want him to leave me like Mom and Dad. I gave him a lot of trouble and I never really showed any thanks for what he gave up. I thought it was only fair he had to give up everything because I was the one who was lonely…” She blinked furiously and pushed the feelings back. Sniffling.

“You know that. But does he know that?” Teresa prodded.

The phone in her pocket buzzed, she didn’t have to check to know it was most likely Henry. “I guess, I guess maybe I should tell him instead of just yelling at him.” _Instead of being a brat._

“You would know how best to talk to him dear heart. Now come and help me get these pies rolled out. I’m expecting a full house tonight.”

“Yes, Mother Superior.” Elena rolled her watery eyes good naturedly as she moved to find a clear space on the counter. Silently thankful for the sudden change of topic. She should save the waterworks for later.

She spent the rest of the day, cocooned with busy work and the smells of a home cooked meal with sugar and cinnamon wafting through the air. She spent the time, thinking long and hard, weighing all her choices and words. Playing imaginary conversations and trying to predict how her decision will be taken by her overprotective big brother.

9 imaginary arguments had her screaming at the top of her lungs at him for being pig-headed.

1 scenario had him disowning her forever.

And 1 – the most hopeful and honestly maybe the most cheesiest one…the two of them actually sitting down and having a heart to heart talk. Something they stopped engaging in, in nearly over a decade.

_When did we stop leaning on each other the way we did when Mom and Dad died? It seems like just one day…he stopped being my big brother and started feeling like a prison warden…_

Guilt and a strange sense of lightness filled her.

It really was time to put all this behind them.

**\-----With Henry----- **

No new messages.

Henry sighed and tried calling instead.

The automated system answered him instead. “The number you have dialed is not accepting any calls right now, please hang up and try again later.”

_Damn it_. Elena must still be pretty upset with him. A brotherly sigh of exasperation heaved from him. She always had a penchant for dramatic tantrums, and it seemed like she won’t be growing out of them anytime soon, given her current behavior. Times like these, Henry wished he could turn back time, back to when things were much simpler. Less messy.  
Back to when his sister still hero worshipped him. It stung, hearing her call him a coward. Telling him how ashamed she was of him...

He frowned down at the folder in his hands and reluctantly began to thumb through it. Desperate enough to try and bury himself in the gruesome details of these cases just to escape his thoughts. Elena just didn’t understand, she was handed the luxury to do as she pleased. But that luxury of choice always came with a price. Henry knew everyone paid their dues at some point or another; he was trying to impress that on his willful sibling but to no avail.

...was it so bad that he didn’t want to see her learn the hard way? That sometimes, what you pay up is more than what you can afford to lose? And they both lost so much already. He, even more by his own choices when he chose to prioritize her well-being over his.

Shaking his head, he promised himself to try to talk to her again later - this time without the mention of marriage. If Elena could just even find a much safer occupation to pursue, he felt that he could compromise on that. Something where he could keep an eye on her and not worry constantly about her safety. An occupation where he also didn’t have to pull strings or do favors to keep her out of jail. Elena wasn’t very....discreet or professional most times due to her hair trigger temper. It’s gotten her in a lot more trouble than she’ll ever know.

_Of all the career choices she could have picked, she never would’ve chosen it if it wasn’t for ____._ A hand shook as he reached for the coffee cup on his desk. Brows furrowed when he realized that it was stone cold. Fine, guess he’ll have to just settle for fighting through the fatigue. 

“A goddamn Devil Hunter. What happened to your dreams of just being a cook like our parents?” He mumbled to himself wearily. His hand rubbed at the building headache squeezing at his temples. His sister was such a handful and a pain in the ass. She’s caused at least half of the grey hairs on his head.

But of course, he was asking a rhetorical question. Her choice, honestly, had been inevitable when ____ came into their lives by chance. Elena was easily impressed by strong women, courtesy of their mother who immigrated and built a new life from scratch without asking for assistance. Because of this, Elena grew up with a weak spot and stars in her eyes for strong, independent women. 

_Probably exacerbated when I don’t treat her like one_. He thought wryly with a self-deprecating chuckle.

It was a no brainer, when the Devil Hunter came and rescued her just in time before she had been auctioned off by her kidnappers. Henry had been just a new cadet at the time, frantic about her abduction and frustrated at his inability to do anything. It had been pure dumb luck that he found ____ when he did, and even more so when she simply agreed to step in without payment.

They owed her everything.

And star-struck Elena, unfortunately for his sanity and health, decided to repay the hunter back by following in her footsteps. Doggedly badgering the woman until she agreed to train her. He remembered the argument that ensued and how coolly ___ shut him down by stating that if Elena could take care of herself, she won’t have to wait for assistance in the future. It had been the harsh truth but Henry felt the sting of shame at her words. Had then vowed to be better, to provide in every way so she’d never have to resort to being a Hunter to save herself.

Shame it backfired on him so spectacularly.

He sighed and shuffled the papers. Henry didn’t resent the Hunter but he did resent the woman she helped raise he thought a little unkindly. _Stop that_. He forced his thoughts away from treading down that particular thought again. Elena was family he reaffirmed. And it was his duty to care for her, even if she didn’t know what was best for herself, he did. It’s been his job since she was born and it still will be even if she hated him for it. _You suffer for the ones you love but you always take care of them even when they’re the reason you suffer_, their mother always impressed on them. And Henry will take that to heart, no one could say he wasn’t a mama’s boy after all.

Satisfied for now, his gaze flickered back to the sheaf of papers stuffed in the dirty manila folder. He thumbed through the thick stack of pages until he reached the most recent addition.

_My, Hart’s been busy._

A court order to the Cradle.

He raised an eyebrow. The suspect never signed it. But yet the judge ruled on it with only Hart’s signature and two other witnesses. Witnesses that haven’t been vetted. That wasn’t protocol.  
He chewed the inside of his cheek. Hart had been adamant that this suspect was the Ripper. Even had enough evidence to convince the judge to authorize the order without the suspect’s written confession.

But something about it nagged at him, despite how clean the case looked. He sighed and flipped back to the packet of evidence. 

He couldn’t deny the conclusions made, everything sounded entirely plausible and presented with sound evidence. The suspect was known to have a violent streak and on occasion did leave bodies behind that were reminiscent of the Ripper’s own victims. But there was a glaring difference that Hart neglected to notate - and it made Henry wonder if the former detective purposefully omitted it.

The string of murders Hart wanted to tie her too…they had one more thing in common. They were all 100% bonafide humans.

The suspect’s kill list ONLY consisted of demons. Humans, she only maimed or disfigured to teach a lifelong lesson. If even that. The Hunter was known for only accepting missions for demon exterminations or gathering materials and nothing anything else.

So why the fixation that ____ was the Ripper? Henry knew there was more to the story. Did she piss off Hart? If so, how? Hart had been a low ranking officer and just happened to have the right kind of blackmail to nab the Homicide Detective office. Where did ____ fit in?

Henry thoughts wandered back to the manor they investigated yesterday. An anonymous tip had come in just a day before Hart’s disappearance, stating that the owner had gone missing. And of course, one of Hart’s dubious bright ideas was to tie ____ to the disappearance of a minor lordling as well. It was even documented right here.

Given that Henry’s seen firsthand how much of a fat, lazy slob the man was, and how he constantly complained of the work involved. It was surprising to see the level of detail Hart put into this case...or rather how much effort he put into pinning a certain Hunter as the culprit.

It’s suspicious.

_Really suspicious._

If Henry was a smart man, he’d let this drop and just clean up. Accept his newest promotion without fuss and take credit for closing the Ripper case and move on. **Should**.

… …Damn it. Henry sighed to himself, he felt like he might regret his next course of action.

He gathered his things, strapped on his standard issued gun and pocketed extra rounds. As an afterthought, he decided to text Elena one more time before heading out.

_I’m sorry. Let’s talk later. I promise to listen to you this time. _

Satisfied, he left.

The apartment building was noisy as ever. Not surprising given that it was evening now, and everyone was scurrying in a vain attempt to beat the after work rush. He puffed, red faced and sweating up the stairs. How the hell did she do this every single day? Henry was ready to pass out cold by the time he reached the top floor. Leaning heavily against the wall, he caught his breath and wiped furiously at the sweat dripping down his face and neck.

“Good god – I’m not cut out for this.”

Quieting his breathing until it evened out, he slowly approached ____’s apartment door, sharp eyes noticing that it was already ajar. Hands pulled out his Glock, clicking off the safety.

Henry’s gut told him whoever was in there, was definitely not ____.

His heart pounded in his chest, painful and ready to burst from adrenaline and fear. 

Slowly toeing the door open, he squeezed in. Eyes darted all over the tiny apartment. Well aware that he was pretty much an open and easy target as long as he stood at the entrance. He dove behind the couch, crouching low and ignoring the creaking of his joints. His ears picked up shuffling from…from…Well shit – he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. The walls of this building were so damn thin, it could be rats in the walls for all he knew or another neighbor.

Henry fought to keep upright as he cautiously peeked from the safety of the couch. Everything went quiet now. So quiet that all he could hear now was the blood rushing furiously through his head. 

His eyes suddenly widened, he shot up to his feet.

Thump.

Henry slid back down to his knees, vision spinning wildly before spots of black engulfed him completely.

A leather boot nudged his shoulder.

Henry didn’t move as crimson puddled beneath him.

“Well. That’s going to be a bit inconvenient.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, My - hopefully you all enjoyed your time with Henry and Elena. Now though, we gotta jet back to Amalfi because something is a-brewing yet again and we gotta start prepping for the next shitstorm coming in.
> 
> Until Next Time sweetlings, send me your love and dirty thoughts~


	20. When in Rome, It’s…Not Quite Amore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've packed up and bounced to Rome. What are the odds you'd run into a very familiar face in a city of 3 million people? When it's this particular person, it's 100%.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll here! Yet another chapter completed and one I think you sweetlings might have have been waiting anxiously for. Send me some love - dialogue is usually my weakest skill here but I believe I did the chapter justice.
> 
> Also - fanart for this chapter! Eek - please go check it out, it's amazing!! Thank you so very much VKyloCifer!  
https://vitalissparda.tumblr.com/image/189334738914  
https://www.deviantart.com/manekineko11/art/Madness-Reigns-King-Here-Ch20-821652730

### When in Rome, It’s…Not Quite Amore

Eyes skimmed through her phone, reading impatiently through the scant list of details on the mysterious man who called himself V. Eyes jumping to the next word without giving herself enough time to comprehend what she just read.

“It’s like he doesn’t even exist. There’s nothing in here that I don’t already know.” Hardly anything other than confirmation of what she already figured out or suspected. “What was I expecting anyways...”. She grumbled.

She sighed in frustration, running an agitated hand through her hair. She winced as a sting of pain stabbed at her when her fingers caught a snarl and pulled out a few hairs from her still tender scalp. God damn it, she was **still** aching in places that she didn’t think could hurt. The lovely reminders of her … uninvited visitor made her grumpily put away her phone in favor of stewing in front of the TV.

Her contact had done their best in gathering what they could, but clearly V covered up his past too well. Another sigh as she mentally reviewed everything again, already committing the sparse details to memory. Maybe they might prove useful somewhere down the line. She’s made less work for her before.

_A mysterious devil summoner that just appeared out of nowhere. A rarity too, with his enormous power and seemingly complete mastery over his demons but not wholly unheard of._

_A vague maybe from the Legendary Hunter that V may have been outsourced by Morrison to take on some of the piling cases to keep DMC in business. Which really couldn’t discredit his affirmation that he was part of DMC. Cause technically he was._

All of the above were less than helpful in facilitating her understanding. The only new bit of information worth a second glance was his recent acquisition of a countryside manor...situated conveniently between Red Grave and Enamel city. She groaned and slapped a hand to her head. She had a suspicion that V’s relocation to the manor was entirely her own fault for telling him where she lived. 

Still…

It’d be worth a shot to investigate the manor for more information...If she wasn’t currently on Enamel’s immediate arrest list. She cursed Hart again for creating yet another obstacle for her. For a dead pig, he certainly proved as much of a pain in her ass, dead as he was alive. Thanks to him, she was cut off from her home base – where nearly _all_ of her resources was at. No access to her stash of weapons, no access to her alcohol. And no access to Teresa who could have helped her sort through this mess going on in her head.

_So now what?_ She hit a dead end. Still in the same place as she started when it came to trying to untangle this newest puzzle. The only thing new that added to her stress was the emergence of some realizations that she definitely was not ready to face anytime soon.

Her phone buzzed beside her.

_Speak of the Devil_. She thought agitatedly. And stubbornly ignoring the tiny frisson of _something_ that leapt in her belly.

It’s been like this since he left her bedridden. Leaving her several photos and dirty texts, recounting his ‘favorite’ moments of his visit to her. But _not once_ showing up physically to terrorize her in person. In a sick and twisted way, she felt relief that he went back to harassing her remotely. She didn’t trust herself to act appropriately if she saw him in the flesh again so soon after...after…

-That night. She wasn’t going to call it anything else because that meant she had to actually recall it and she wasn’t quite ready for a trip down that particular memory lane yet.

Her phone lit up again. And again. The vibrations made her heart hammer in painful anticipation.

He was rather chatty tonight.

But she didn’t dare look. Didn’t want to know what new messages of debauchery he sent tonight. Instead trying to ignore him, pretending in vain that she was having a nice, quiet, normal night in.

Her feigned disinterest only lasts through half a show.

_”You look cozy.”_

_”Are you waiting up for me tonight? I can make time to see you, sweet thing. Just say the word.”_

“You wish.” She muttered to herself, reaching over to pull a throw pillow to hug closely. Her skin prickled as phantom fingers gently caressed the back of her neck. A flash of elegantly long fingers made her nipples pebble in remembrance. _Shit, not again._ ____ shifted uncomfortably and tried to calm her racing heart. Just calm down, he’s not even here…

_”Doing some light reading?”_

_”I’m rather flattered that you’re putting in such an admirable effort into uncovering my past.”_

She froze, catching the end of his latest string of messages. How – How did he find out about that? She had taken every measure she could to be discreet in her line of queries. He wasn’t even anywhere in Enamel or Amalfi and she triple checked every day to be sure of that!

_"Have you found anything worthwhile yet? Although I daresay, you should already know firsthand the best…aspects of me.”_

Dear lord, she could even see that smirk so clearly in her brain. See those sinful lips as his dark voice teased her mercilessly. She clutched the pillow closer, ignoring her ragged breathing.

_”Sweet thing, won’t it be much better to simply ask your questions in person? This little silent treatment of yours is breaking my heart.”_

No way in hell. She preferred to have him stay far away, thank you very much. V could take his hurt feelings and go to hell for all she cared. And even then, she felt like that still wasn’t far away enough for her to feel safe alone again.

_”I’m absolutely dying to sink my teeth into you again little lamb. You were so sweet, why not show me again how delicious you sound when you cum thinking of me?”_

**And** there it was. The start of the slew of filth V purred to her digitally. Shifting her legs uncomfortably again, she forced her attention back to the TV that had been murmuring in the background. Not wanting to even entertain the notion of what was currently running rampant in that demented head of his. It would be just what he wanted, to get under her skin and tip her off kilter again to gain an advantage.

How very convenient that she was also ignoring the thrumming quickening in her veins.

The phone blissfully stopped. But that no longer mattered. A quick breaking news clipped through the heavy haze that fogged her brain.

“-Enamel City’s newest Homicide Detective was found tonight, severely wounded in an apartment his staff stated he was investigating. According to witnesses, Detective Henry Li was confirming the alibi of the apartment’s occupant when gunshots were fired and the detective was found shot within. Police have not yet released a statement about the possible culprit but state that they are already closing in on an arrest. All citizens however are encouraged to call the anonymous tip line if they have any information.—“

The camera panned behind and she caught a glimpse of her own apartment door.

“Oh fucking hell. That’s my apartment he got shot in.” She buried her face in her hands. This was not good. 

This was a disaster.

She had to leave. Now! It was only a matter of time before they came looking for her in Amalfi to drag her back to charge her with yet another crime she didn’t commit. She cursed herself for not being careful enough. She already logged her presence here by taking on some local missions. 

“I gotta get out of town in the next few hours or else I’m going to see the Cradle again sooner than I want.”

She bustled out of the couch and stormed haphazardly through the entire beach home. In a matter of a few hours; ____ packed only the bare essentials, combed the house and rearranged everything to make it appear that no one had ever been there, before taking off into the night on a motorcycle. She counted herself lucky she stumbled on a gun during her rush and hoped she could find a way to acquire a sword later in Rome. Not being fully equipped made her feel vulnerable. And helpless.

Although, her brain wryly quips, she should be used to it by now, courtesy of a certain summoner. If anything, if things became that desperate enough, she could go to him for protection. He technically would assist her, since it would be in his best interests. She snorted at the last thought. Things would have to really be dire for her to even consider that option.

A flock of birds chirped in the cold air as the rumble of her bike startled them. A few even flew above her in the same direction for a while before settling down on the power lines to watch her disappear into the night. Because it was still dark, she missed the single lone crow trailing just behind her. Instead she focused on making it to her next destination in one piece.

Rome.

A city teeming with nearly 3 million people packed in closer than sardines. More than enough to hide her in plain sight while she evaded future bounty hunters looking to cash in. And while she was here, she probably could take a crack at the mission the Network assigned her. She’d have to anyways, if she wanted to still keep the perks of being in their dubious employ.

____ felt the stress pressing on her. Cracking her. Between these messes with Enamel, the Vatican mission and throwing in V and his fascination with her, her mind was going to pieces. She just wanted to survive and see the next day. Hopefully with her sanity still intact.

Her mind wandered back again to V as the bike growled between her legs.

There was something not quite right with that man. He was a walking example of deranged if she ever saw one. What in the world was he doing at Fortuna Castle that day? Just thinking back, she realized that she just kept explaining away all the red flags she’s noticed about him. The danger running loose in the castle had been him the entire time. _He even warned her about it._ Made a game of having her chase his familiar around before luring her into finding the archives for him.

Shaking her head only scattered her thoughts down a more unwanted train of thought. And what was his deal with his obsession of her? Because what else could you call having a man harass you and then following you to another city only to just break in and…Her cheeks heated. She sputtered a little as her throat closed and she choked a little at the saliva gathering in her mouth.

_Fuck that man knows how to use those hips…_

Wait! That wasn’t what she should be thinking at all!

She should be horrified and disgusted and ready to vow to stab him in the heart the next time she saw him.

…’Should’ being the key word.

“God damn it, I’m in way over my head. I’m not equipped to figure out how to deal with this.”

Her hands gripped the handles tighter as she gunned it and sped off; trying to outrace the thoughts chasing after her like a pack of wolves. She didn’t have the energy to spare on all this thinking. She’ll just have fall back to her tried and true methods of pretending nothing was wrong. 

The cold air barely warmed as the sun rose in the pale grey sky. Thunder rumbled ahead and behind. A drizzle chilled her to the bones when she pulled up into the outskirts of the city. Smells of molding stone, rotting garbage sitting on the streets mixed with the various scents of both the citizens and tourists made her nose wrinkle. Rome definitely had a funk to it that Enamel didn’t have.

The drizzle became a downpour as lightning cracked across the skies. Water dripped into her eyes as she skidded into the first open parking lot she saw. She needed to get out of this downpour and somewhere with a roof to wait it out. Cutting the engine, she hurriedly hopped off and raced down the wide concrete path towards the brightly lit building up ahead. Her teeth chattered as she stomped up the steps, feeling half drowned.

At least she wasn’t the only one seeing refuge from the rain here. Her eyes flicked to an extremely well dressed couple to her right being greeted by a stuffy looking suited man.

“Welcome to the Galleria Borghese.” He spoke in Italian and then repeated himself again in English at their request.

She wrung herself as dry as she could and quietly snuck in past the notice of the man gathering tickets. Might as well kill some time here while she waited for the storm to die down. She knew next to nothing about art but figured she could still stroll through and pretend to admire the dusty imaginings of dead men.

Cheery.

Just like the weather outside.

_This place feels more like a grave than a museum._ She noted dryly, trying to make sense of a painting of a stern looking man. So…why did people pay to look at this again? Hung next to it was another painting, creatively titled ‘Woman with the Unicorn’. She tried to mimic the bland look of the subject before snorting softly to herself. _Ok, moving on. Didn’t these people have to sit for days to get their painting done?_ She wondered how many people felt like their face just froze permanently in the same expression as their painted counterparts. She moved her jaw just to reassure herself that her face at least wasn’t stuck.

____ slowly worked her way through the gallery in this manner. Part of her did feel a niggle of self consciousness about her road worn, drenched and bedraggled appearance and how it made her stick out like a sore thumb. She also couldn’t completely shake off the unsettling sensation of being closely watched. 

Now though, she knew better than to write it off as her overactive paranoia. She learned her lesson about trusting her instincts more; a shame she learned it the hard way and far too late.

Rubbing at her arms, trying to steady her nerves; she continued through. Her footsteps echoed ominously as she approached the wing dedicated to Bernini. Just like in Fortuna, the lifelike sculptures that towered around her made her breath catch. While the paintings did nothing but inspire her dry humor. Bernini had the gift of instilling a sense of muted awe with his art. Her feet finally brought her to the end of the wing, to the statue that depicted the abduction of Persephone by Hades. 

Her eyes roved over the marble sculpture, trying to make sense of the dynamic scene depicted before her. She only knew the vague details of the myth. But her weak grasp of the story didn’t diminish the haunting beauty of the god and his stolen bride. The level of detail by the master’s hands captured her attention. The realism of the exquisite carvings was surreal. _This was all stone?_ And yet the scene was living - breathing and fluid. 

The overall theme ensnared her. The terror and struggle she sensed from the woman along with the intensity and arrogance of the man; it hit a little too close to home for comfort. A shiver raced up her spine.

“Bernini’s own son called it a perfect masterpiece of cruelty and tenderness.” 

She instinctively stiffened. Every nerve prickled to life by his overpowering, suffocating presence. The cavernous hall suddenly shrunk in on them. The hand splayed on her back scorched her through the fabric of her shirt. That sensuous drawl in her ear. The puff of hot breath on her neck. 

The alluring scent of bitter chocolates.

It could only be him...

**V.**

The man that haunted her at every moment. 

____ fought her impulse to turn around and react. She couldn’t let him take control over every encounter. She needed to establish her own agency. Even if it was a futile attempt. Every encounter, she’d always given him the upper hand, and it rankled her deeply. ____ needed to show him that she wasn’t going to be docile any longer. That meant she needed to stop playing his twisted games. Because every time she did, it only reinforced the idea that he could get away with virtually anything he wanted of her. She had to put a stop to that quick. ____ had no intentions of playing his pretty little fuck doll.

So, she chose to coolly reply, “I disagree. All I see is a deranged and deluded man who decided that he wanted to take what didn’t belong to him. There’s no tenderness in his actions at all, just cruelty.” Oh bravo, she even managed to sound slightly judgmental.

A dark, indulgent chuckle; one that should not have made her feel so heated and flushed. _So alive and fearful all at once_. “Ah, is that truly your opinion? Was Pluto so cruel in chasing after the only bit of light and sweetness he’ll ever see again? Carpe diem, dear lamb. At most he is an opportunist. He simply took the first chance given to him. He proved daring enough to pursue happiness. And she chose to stay in the end, even took him as her husband. Does that not satisfy your innate need for a happy ending?” He countered.

“Just because she didn’t complain in the end doesn’t make it a happy ending for her. She’s trapped by a monster.”

The hand smoothly glided from her back to wrap fully around her waist. A chin rested on her shoulder. The barest flick of a wet tongue on her neck made her shudder and her eyes drift close. V breathed deeply in that irresistible scent of honeysuckles and cinnamon. Filling his entire being with the scent of the one he so craved. The tip of his nose lightly pressed into her hair.

“My sweet lamb, perhaps you will see one day. The god of the underworld gave her exactly what she desired even when she didn’t know she wanted it.” His voice dropped to a low, seductive purr. “And I wager,” He murmured silkily, “That it was a sweet surrender for her in the end.”

She gritted her teeth, unhappily forced to acknowledge again how eerily similar the parallels were; reminded again of how he had cornered her into giving in to his twisted desires. “Even so, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And I can’t help but wish she was given a different story with a much better ending.” 

So stubborn in denial, V tsk’d.

The fingers dug painfully into her. But that was all his displeasure manifested as. “Perhaps.” That single word sounded so mocking to her in his smooth voice, “Consider this, the goddess of spring was known to be naive. But she stayed trapped as you called it, willingly in the end. And she traded her crown of green spring for the power as the Empress of Hell. She ended up proving herself just as capable of cruelty as her husband.” He dropped a kiss to her trembling jaw before continuing his narrative. “And in the end; they found they were well matched. Don’t you think she found her happiness as soon as she accepted her fate?”

____ felt the weight of those ominous words. “I believe you and I have different ideas on what happiness looks like.” Damn it, her voice quivered just a little; making her sound unsure. Vulnerable.

“Then I will be more than delighted to enlighten you, sweet ____.”

His eyes gleamed as she gulped nervously. Distantly, she thought she heard the click of a trap. _Well shit._ So much for not playing his games. She didn’t even last one minute.

“Why are you here?”

Such a loaded question. He must have really rattled her, for her to be asking such inane questions. Questions that she already knew the answer to as well.

Instead, V pulled away, _slowly_. Dragging his fingers across her belly, smirking when he heard the soft hitch in her breath. Heard the near inaudible whine when she felt the loss of his body against hers. “Coincidence.” He replied smoothly; detaching himself from her in a long, torturous movement. “Pure. Coincidence.”

She turned around.

He was gone.

“How does he keep doing that?”

Unsettled, she turned on her heel to leave the museum as quickly as she could. She wasn’t in the mood any longer to deal with anything other than the throbbing in her head....and lower.

A hand crept up to rest over her racing heart. “I’m in so much trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't expect any quick updates lol - I think this is it for awhile.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	21. Ostinato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In music, an ostinato [ostiˈnaːto] (derived from Italian: stubborn, compare English, from Latin: 'obstinate') is a motif or phrase that persistently repeats in the same musical voice, frequently in the same pitch. Although in this chapter, well you know what the recurring theme is when it comes to a certain tattooed summoner. V decides to escalate the game a little bit more...because why not? It's so very obvious that his little lamb is desperate for another taste. And how lucky that he's feeling generous enough to give you a little relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I lied about not updating quickly lol. Here is another chapter for your entertainment.

### Ostinato

Adjusting the strap to her bag, she weaved along with the crowd, doing her best to blend in. That run-in at the museum just moments before was more than her heart and hormones can handle. She needed to breathe. Her pace unconsciously quickened. Feet slapped through shallow puddles, splashing dirty water all over herself and everyone around her. Cold seeped through her clothes, daggering into her bones.

____ glanced warily over her shoulder, trying to pick out what darkened niche her ‘admirer’ might be watching her from. He’s nearby – she’d be a fool to think he’s left her completely alone after their little conversation. She really would like to know how he’s been keeping tabs on her, even across long distances. It unnerved her that he could monitor her every movement while she was kept in the dark about his. The unpredictability frayed her frazzled nerves and fed into her constant paranoia.

The crush of the crowd made her feel claustrophobic. All these unknown faces pressing and bumping into her as they went about their day made her cagey. Made her teeth want to snap and demand room for her to maneuver more freely. The sharp mind and survival instincts she relied on worked against her now, everyone looked like a threat. Everywhere she looked, she only saw _him_. Whispering in _his_ voice, purring threateningly to her that no matter where she ran, he was there waiting to devour her. Murmuring insidiously that she looked so damn precious trying to live her life as if it wasn’t falling to pieces now.

**_ Never going to let you leave now that I’ve got to taste you._**

**_My sweet, sweet lamb._**

Gritting her teeth, she shoved her hands into her pockets, lowered her head a little and trudged on. Struggling to keep the whirlwind mess of her emotions in check. She could – had to – hold on to normalcy a little longer. 

A glum expression crossed her face.

Her life has become such a shitshow lately.

_What the hell – no one can have this much bad luck can they?_ She mentally ticked off every current stressor that threatened to snap her sanity in pieces. A trigger happy employer breathing down her neck. Lazy assed, crooked cops trying to pin every crime they could on her despite the overwhelming evidence that said contrary. Bounty Hunters that were already mobilizing to try and cash in on the reward being dangled by said crooked cops. Oh and she better not forget about the deranged stalker that’s got her stomach up in knots. 

Her heart raced at just the barest memory of him. That ache and thrum of twisted desire flared again. And seeing him so soon after that night sent her hormones into overdrive. God, what was wrong with her? For wanting…**lusting** for a man that’s insane in every sense of the word. He harassed her at every turn, broke into her home and then…

…fucked her so hard that she barely remembered her own name afterwards. Made her feel so alive from the fear of his feral hunger for her. Made her dark bitter world of hard survival burst violently in a firestorm of pleasure and pain. Promised her more if she would ‘consent’ to submit to him fully whenever he demanded it.

**_ Don’t you think she found her happiness as soon as she accepted her fate?_**

…God what the hell was she doing, letting him get to her like this? A scowl broke across her face and she decided that all the nonsense swirling around in her brain was most definitely from a lack of sleep and food. She made it out of Amalfi and with the anonymity of Rome, she was safe enough to afford one full night of sleep. And then, she’ll be able to deal with things with a much clearer head.

A slab of muscle nearly knocked her off her feet. She whirled around and swore virulently at the hulking bastard that stomped away without so much as a second look. Huffing under her breath, she glowered and turned back on her heel. “Tch, I already hate this city.”

She cut across the busy street and decided that the warm lights of the inn up ahead was calling her name. A stiff drink. A warm meal. A warm bed.

Guaranteed cure for all her recent troubles.

The sun dipped lower in the sky by the time she was done eating the surprisingly delicious food provided by the inn. Although she could have done without the exorbitant price that damaged her wallet. She’d have to think about how to acquire more funds without alerting the Bounty Hunters of her presence here. She didn’t want to start investigating the Vatican without being fully prepared and that meant she needed to pick up equipment. She growled again, being cut off from her resources really made things more difficult than she wanted.

Her things are tossed without a second thought on the narrow bed. She wasted no time in stripping down to her underthings, peeling off the damp clothes and tossing it over the chairs to dry. Fuck this room was freezing, and no heater as well, she tsk’d. Hopefully a warm shower will be enough.

The bathroom is ridiculously tiny as she squeezed in, leaning over to turn on the shower as hot as it will go. She braced herself over the sink and sighed deeply, feeling exhaustion creep in. So much hanging over her head – she needed help and as loathe as she was to admit it, common sense told her that V might be her best bet in making out of this tangled mess of obligations alive. She spent all day thinking and there weren’t any more appealing options for her to take.

“This day just keeps getting better and better.” She quipped dryly, raising her head to the mirror.

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

Emerald eyes greet her from behind her wide eyed reflection.

It’s not her proudest moment.

She shrieked as she turned around. Her breath is knocked from her lungs when she’s slammed against the door of the bathroom. His body is searingly hot pressed against her clammy skin. And in this tiny room, his presence is suffocating.

“Haven’t you gotten enough fun for one day?” 

“What can I say? I just can’t get enough of you little lamb.”

A strangled whimper sticks in her throat when V pinned her hands above her head, his large hands powerful enough to shatter both her wrists if he felt inclined to do so. A devastating smirk curled on his lips - that feral grin she is beginning to associate with trouble sends sparks of anticipation leaping from her belly. She can already feel her body quake in need and terror at what might possibly come next.

_Fuck me._ The little devil on her shoulder cackled in her ear, letting her know that she meant that in the more literal sense than as a curse at her apparent bad luck.

She gulped at the greed smoldering in his eyes. The promises of utter ruin fuels her own growing lust for the unholy pleasure he can only provide. She’s like an addict for his depravity. One hit and he’s hooked her unwillingly. 

His sweet lamb craved for him to quench the ache throbbing incessantly in her blood, her body...to pack himself deep and tight inside her honey sweet cunt. He’s all she can hazily focus on now; pupils blown so wide that he could hardly see the sliver of her irises. Such innocent little gasps and whines from her pretty mouth from the hot, stinging kisses of his teeth along her jaw. Down the column of her tender neck. V grew smug with the way she unconsciously sought to press herself closer to his heat. Needing that skin to skin contact. Wanting to fill her lungs with that mouthwatering bitter chocolate musk of his virility. 

This craving for him that's been gnawing at her lately is insane. She can only call it like a demonic possession. She loathes how quickly it stole away all her control. How it turned her into a hungry whore for his attentions. Oh but it’s too fucking intoxicating. It’s so damned dangerous for her to give in like this. Because one too many hits of this unholy ecstasy and she’ll never be able to back off. 

____ wonders distractedly if she could even be saved at this point...or if she’s already hurdled herself past the point of no return.

He slid a leg between hers, feeling her thighs trembling. Could already feel the heat from her damp core even through his clothes. V bet that if he slipped a finger in now, he’ll find her already tight and ready for him. “My, so eager already? Has my little lamb been missing my cock?” He taunted, pressing his muscled thigh harder into the juncture of her legs; into the ache that desperately needed friction.

_Damn it._ Why was it that the most deranged man on earth was also the only one who can turn her insides into a puddle of hormonal chaos so easily? She’s always managed to control herself before him. Her few past lovers never made her lose her mind from just a few suggestive touches and words before.

But perhaps that was the answer right there. None of them were V. This feral beast between her legs was intent on more than just a passing quickie for relief. Wanted - no demanded more than just a quick, no strings attached rut. He has plans to claw into her body and soul. He’ll own her and be her whole universe.

And the thing that frightens her so much is that it’s not a matter of “if”. But a matter of when; of how long does she think she can hold out before her will to resist crumbles to dust and she lets him in freely to wreck her.

Oh god, she can’t handle the thought of being owned in such a way. It’s too overwhelming. To surrender to another person completely. That went against everything she’s learned as a survivor. 

“Keep your attention on only me lovely ____.” He purred against her swollen lips. “I can assure you that whatever is distracting you, I will make you forget it all.”

_Well shit, how do you say no to that kind of declaration?_ The internal struggles churning inside her excited him. V truly wanted her to suffer in her indecisions; agonize over whether or not to give in now...or later. He’s generous and sadistic enough to let her make that decision. 

Because he’s a confident bastard; he knows what his lamb will choose in the end.

...She just needed a little nudge here and there to understand what is so deliciously obvious to him.

Her breathy moans are smothered by the rough crush of his lips to hers. His hands release her to grip her hips tightly instead. Dragging her torturously along his thigh; grinding her needy cunt against him. Giving her a taste of what she’s wordlessly begging for. Just enough to whet her appetite but not to satisfy.

“Do you want to cum sweet thing?” He coaxed in his honeyed drawl. “Want to be my naughty girl again?”

Her heart hammered against her chest. She should push him off; say no, save herself while she still can - 

“God damn it V - you know I need - ah!” Another hard grind. “Fuck yes V - please! I need to cum!” A ragged sob, a pitiful whine - her body is too wound up. All that teasing from him and her own imagination has reduced her to this writhing, horny mess. This is all his fault, the petulant part of her accuses. And hers too while she was playing the blame game.

“Then take your pleasure sweet thing. Let me see how badly you want it.” He purred, licking his lips sensuously. “Show me how lovely you are when you cum crying MY name.”

She loathed how he turned this back on her. Seethed at the manipulative games he’s playing with her. Fucking herself against his leg like a bitch in heat meant she had to admit to herself just how much he’s gotten to her. Letting her take back just this sliver of control to satiate her lust meant giving into his satisfaction of seeing her willingly choose to debauch herself for his entertainment. 

He won’t even give her the luxury of letting her pretend he was forcing this pleasure against her will. That twisted bastard- V won’t let her get away with the self delusion that she was doing anything against her wishes. If she wants it, she’ll have to take it.

A harsh nip at her jugular throws her mind back into the lust he’s been carefully building up. He tutted at her, “Tick tock little lamb. I’m a very busy man. I can leave you here unfulfilled if you are that disinterested.”

What? Her body clenched at the thought of being left in this state. A harsh “No!” slipped from her lips before she could stop herself. 

His eyes glittered in malicious triumph, “Then go ahead and cum for me.” 

A hand snaked up to cradle the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to his. ____ curled her hands, almost shyly on his shoulders to brace herself. A hesitant roll of her hips had her biting her lips to quiet her groan of relief from the friction against her thrumming cunt. Her eyes are wet in pleasure and seething in fury at him.

Intoxicating, V admired to himself. Still so defiant even in the throes of pleasure. He’ll break that spirit of hers and replace with adoration and worship for him. Only him.

It’s rough. It’s dirty.

It feels too damn good. Too damned right. 

The way he possessively holds her, letting her desperately seek relief on her own volition. Filthy words of praise drip from those sinful lips, purring silkily how precious she looked. Face flushed and sparkling with perspiration. Ragged gasps and sharp moans thundering in his ears and going straight to his cock. Head tossed back in the ecstasy drowning her.

Exquisite.

Her body shuddered violently as her orgasm ripped through her. Stealing her breath away as all the tension of the past few days finally broke. She’s panting hard into his shoulder, leaning heavily and tiredly against him for support.

“Brava. A marvelous climax.” 

Embarrassment and annoyance raced through her as he chuckled. Oh but it’s a struggle to hold onto those feelings for too long. Her body has melted into a boneless heap. The fatigue of the past days catch up. And it takes too much energy for her to want to be anything other than dead tired.

V’s hand glowed a brief purple as he carded his fingers through her hair. Her head lolled to the side as her eyes drift completely closed.

“Poor sweet lamb.” He smirks. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me love sweetlings, and thank you as always for dropping by.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	22. Using Work as a Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More spice and you get started on taking a crack at the security details around the Vatican. Luckily (or maybe not) for you, you’ve got a mischievous informant who’s having a little too much fun in making you work for their help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I love to make you squirm? Why yes sweetling, very much so. Don’t fret, I shall deliver sweet satisfaction…after making you squirm some more. Hee.
> 
> Also - still floored that you all are still here with me on this story. Definitely, I'm not complaining about the company. Come join me as I keep writing to satisfy my need for filthy and obsessive V.

### Using Work as a Distraction

**“Time to wake up sweet thing.”**

Startled out of a fretful sleep, she glanced up, seeing V towering over her from the edge of her bed. His wicked smirk sent her scooting back on the sheets as far as she could before chilled fingers stopped her progression by latching on her thighs. He reeled her back to him, hooking her legs over his hips. The bed creaked and dipped from his added weight as he prowled over her. Hands sensuously rasped up to her hips, fingertips lightly skimming up her sides. His lean body loomed over her, arms resting on either side of her body to cage her in place.

____ swallowed nervously. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was angling for.

“Oh no, no no no...Stop! I am not going to do this right now!” Her palms weakly pushed back on his chest to emphasize her point. Her heart stuttered in her throat as he inched even closer to her. Sharp smile widening further at her feeble protests. 

My, but didn’t she sound convincing to **no one**.

Amusement curled his lips. “No?” He peeled off one of her hands to press a searing kiss at the center of her palm. Moving his lips slowly upwards, he caught each fingertip with a playful lap of his tongue. “Are you quite sure?”

It didn’t escape his notice that she said ‘right now’ instead of flat outright denying his advances. His little lamb was already moving in the right direction. _Delightful_. Just a little more and she’ll surrender so beautifully for him. And then they can begin their game all over again. And again. Each time with her falling harder and deeper into his greedy, needy grasp. Each time surrendering more and more of herself to satisfy his insatiable appetite...until he’s consumed all of what she had to offer.

Her voice cracked as he sucked her entire pinky into his mouth. “I-I’m sure…Just, stop -” She stuttered, trying to keep her bearings as his tongue swirled round and round. Too distracting. Her thoughts kept scattering as he flicked his tongue suggestively. “I mean it.” Her voice cracked.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you at all.” He hummed, giving her one long lick down from fingertip to palm. He sucked hard on her radial pulse, taking great care to exaggerate the mouth-shaped bruise on her fragile wrist. “Don’t you want to just give into this? Give into me?” He curled himself tightly around her, grinning maniacally, covetously. Pressing in so close and forcing her legs to spread further out on either side of his hips. Leaving her completely wide open. A flick of his eyes downwards told him all he needed. His little lamb was fucking dripping; drenching completely through her panties. He’d have to remedy that. That sweet cream was _wasted_ if it wasn’t coating his tongue, fingers or his cock.

“There’s no reason to keep struggling sweet ____. You’re only delaying the inevitable.” His voice dropped to a soothing, enticing croon, “You‘re all mine.” He growled hungrily. “My sweet, precious little lamb.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Is that such a terrible fate?” The velvet lilt in his voice so hypnotic to her. So lovingly persuasive. “Especially when you want me as well?” His lips murmured against hers, just the barest brush. Gentle. An illusion of tenderness.

His words seeped like a dark poison into her ears. Slithering deep into the cracks of indecision he split into her. Wrapping tightly around her heart and soul. She felt the breath freeze in her lungs at the certainty of his belief that her fate was already sealed. The devil of her conscience purred in tandem- yes why keep fighting? Especially when the reward for her capitulation was sweet, sweet pleasure at the hands of this beautiful predator.

She yielded ever so slightly. So dangerously slightly. The rhythmic caresses at her cheek lulled her. She inhaled deeply, letting his silken words haze and take root in her brain. 

“I’ll have your full surrender to me one way or the other.” He promised, voice darkly soft. “The day will come where you will beg for me without me ever lifting a finger. Where you can no longer feel alive without me. You’re already on the edge, no one has trapped you like this have they? Made you so greedy-“ A hand drifted to press against the juncture of her legs, smugly pleased at how her body was already primed and eager for him. “Made you such a needy thing. And not just that; no one has even bothered to pleasure you as I have, have they?” He tsk’d. “Such a shame, that this delectable body has gone on so long without being _properly fucked_. It’s no wonder that this cunt is salivating for me now. You’ve been sorely neglected little lamb.”

His fingers pressed deeper into her cleft. V leaned in to capture her lips, teeth sinking lightly into the plump flesh. “And fortunately for you…I am more than generous enough to fix that.” 

She trembled in his arms. A sweet whine for more keened from her throat.

_Push and pull._

____ played a dangerous game where she did her damnedest to resist his temptations. But V proved canny, easily knowing just how far to push her before retreating back and letting her chase after him. And wasn’t that just the sweetest thing? That she’s so far consumed with him; her repulsion and desire propelling her right into his trap. And she’s so willing despite her protests.

Those teasing fingers pulled aside the soaked cloth. The light scratch of a blunt nail against the most sensitive part of her made her belly clench, made the muscles of her thighs twitch and quake in anticipation. Fingers skimmed over her dripping pussy, caressing and parting the plump, dewy flesh of her labia. So, so dripping wet – she was _gushing_ already for him. A single digit shallowly penetrated her. Made her whimper softly at the electrifying pleasure that radiated up her spine. She shivered and arched; panted into his shoulder. A thumb ghosted over her engorged clit, still so sensitive from the way she had frantically grinded against him earlier.

Another finger slipped into her silken, clenching heat. 

Then another.

So full, and yet it wasn’t enough. She _needed_ more. Needed to be filled completely. Needed to be so full that she burst apart at the seams. 

“Such a fucking greedy pussy.” A slow lick at her ear. “Do you want more?” He tempted in that deceptively pleasant, honeyed drawl.

A sharp inhale answered him as his teeth sank into the tender column of her neck. He lapped and nibbled in turns, thoroughly making sure to leave a stinging reminder of his claim over her. She spasmed frantically around his curling fingers, her arousing slicking them heavily. Felt it trickle down to coat her thighs. Those wicked fingers leisurely fucked her, taking his sweet time in dragging her up towards the peak of her orgasm. She submitted herself to the possessive crush of his lips. Too far gone in lust. Her world narrowed down to the all-consuming desire of just needing V to fuck her. To relieve the tension coiling in her. 

_She wanted V to break her._

“Tell me what you want.”

“V – V…” She gasped and sobbed, clutching at him, nails digging harshly into him. “Please, I need to cum. Please fuck me – _oh god!_” A shaky breath as he rewarded her with a particularly hard, knuckle deep thrust that sent her reeling into a pleasurable vertigo. Fingers grazing that spot inside her roughly, tightening that coil of need so unbearably tight. She was going to lose her mind from the way he edged her. “Stop teasing – I can’t take it anymore.” Her voice nothing more than a weak, reedy whisper. _”Please, please!”_

She begged so sweetly.

How could he resist?

He had her right where he wanted her.

V readied himself, swooping for the kill. To take his prize. Her breath mingled with his as he crushed her roughly beneath him. So delectable. So eager and ready…His heavy arousal throbbed in impatience, straining against his pants. He was scorching hot and impossibly hard cradled between her thighs. Fingers hooked the sides of her panties, impatiently snapping the soaked scrap of fabric off her. His fingers loosened the zipper to his trousers.

**RIIINNNGG!**

Awake.

Uncomfortably and unhappily awake.

From a disturbingly vivid dream.

She deflated in a strange mix of relief and disappointment at the interruption from the alarm set on her phone. Although the unpleasant stickiness between her thighs and the dissatisfaction of being denied another orgasm set her teeth a little on edge. She valiantly shook off the fog of lust that addled her brain. Calmed down her racing heart. And while it proved a challenge, she tamped down the need to make herself cum. 

_Geez, how many of these dreams am I going to keep having?_ She palmed her face in exasperation with herself. It was embarrassing. She didn’t think she was the type to lose control over sex, of all things. Yet again, as she was starting to realize – the root of all her current issues seemed to circle back to V.

Drowsily, she looked around the room, just to reassure herself that she was alone. Trying to ignore the faint, indescribable twinge in her chest when she did confirm that there was no dangerous, tattooed summoner waiting to fuck her into oblivion. 

The sunlight that filtered through the blinds was weak and cold. Another gloomy day greeted her; the skies already rumbling and heavy with incoming rain. Outside, the sounds of Rome already running manically on espresso blared at her through the thin walls.

She tossed the sheets off and hurried off to run the coldest shower possible. The flush and heat that surged in her veins was making it all too tempting to finish what the dream had started. At the very least, she could take control of this and not relieve the throbbing ache just to spite him…and herself. She already felt irritated at how easily she gave into him last night. Letting her pent up sexual frustrations override her wariness and common sense made her extremely prickly. 

She wished she hadn’t done that. If anything, it was going to make him even more determined to continue to pester, terrify and seduce her even more. Huffing, she braced herself and smothered her shrieks as the icy water sprayed down at her. Hands wrapped tightly around herself, she bowed her head down and forced herself to shiver in the cold. Chattering teeth echoed in the tiny stall noisily, but she soldiered on until she felt the last vestiges of lust finally ebb away.

____ stayed in the shower another good 10 minutes just to be sure, before finally turning the knob towards the hot water. Thumping her forehead against the shower stall, she berated herself again for her lack of control. 

She hated it.

She worked so hard for years to learn to reign in her urges. Had long decided that carnality wasn’t worth shit because the few times she did find a convenient fuck, it hadn’t been anything to write home about. She noticed how people became increasingly stupid chasing after a phantom high and told herself she wouldn’t allow herself to become like that. Her prime example was Cecilia; the woman chased constantly after the meat between her lovers’ legs and for all purposes, seemed to be only focused on pursuing pleasure relentlessly without a thought to anything else. Always looking for the next fix, the next high that left her blissed out beyond comprehension. 

Sex made one too reckless, too vulnerable. 

____ didn’t understand the appeal. 

…Until V came and showed her exactly how sex can become so fucking addicting.

She wasn’t shy to admit it. It scared her how quickly and how completely out of control it made her. It was unnatural. How easily she let him wreck her. How easily he knew what to do to make her beg for it. Over and over. The power she gave him in every encounter made her uneasy. It would be so simple for him to ask anything of her with that full control, and she would be helpless to resist. 

And now she found herself in the unenviable position of wondering what to do about it. On one hand, she could just let go of her reluctance completely and relinquish everything to her Bernini Devil. On the other hand, her natural stubbornness and fierce need to be independent gnashed its teeth at even the thought of being in any position where control was expected to be given up. 

With a certain man, there would be no compromise.

…it would be all or nothing with V.

She didn’t think she could accept having someone completely own every aspect of her. It rankled that he already pulled the strings of so much of her life already. Giving up everything for another taste of the unholy ecstasy at his masterful hands; _no matter how tempting_ made fury and fear seethe in her veins. 

“I will never let that happen again.”

If V wanted to possess her that desperately, she sure as hell won’t make it easy on him.

Satisfied that sentiment for now, she moved to dress for the day. She had a lot of errands to run and unfortunately very little time to complete them all.

____ quickly packed up and rushed out into the busy streets of Rome. Weaving silently through the crowd, varying her pace and posture at turns to keep anyone that might be tailing her off her scent. She disappeared into the crush of the faceless crowd piling out in full force for the breakfast rush. The smells of freshly cooked meals wafted over the city, mingling discordantly with the smog and garbage that seemed ever present in this densely packed place. She cut across and kept close to the shops that smelled nicer, just for the sake of her own nose. 

Stomach gurgling, she drifted into a bakery for a quick bite before trudging back out. A cold, slow drizzle began to fall by now. Blanketing everything in a grey haze. The skies rumbled angrily, pressing down close as it threatened to downpour on Rome at any moment. 

_What’s up with all the rain lately?_ She turned the collar of her jacket up. It was too early to be so cold.

“Bontà gentile! Goodness!”

Groceries tumbled chaotically down the street. A large orange rolled to a stop at her foot. ____ picked it up and briefly contemplated on taking it. But seeing as the owner whose grocery bags unfortunately split was a nun; she thought better of it. _Better not tempt fate._

“Lord bless you.” The Sister beamed as the young woman began to help pick up all the fallen items. Sister Maria gazed curiously at her as she easily gathered everything up in her arms. 

“I’ll help you carry these. Where are you headed to Sister…?” She asked politely.

“Maria.” She supplied her name as she pointed to a small chapel up ahead. “Ah – it’s not too far of a walk, the cappella up the street, thank you very much.” Maria chirped sunnily. Her habit swishing cheerfully as she swept down the street.

____ trailed after her in slight amusement, watching as the nun greeted everyone happily. It slowed their progress considerably but she didn’t mind. The Sister reminded her of a puppy in her mannerisms, she seemed a little spacey but full of good cheer and good intentions. 

The chapel was warm brick and mortar, small compared to the towering churches nearby and humble looking in its simplicity. Honestly it was more welcoming than the pretentious tourist trap eyesores. And oddly enough, the chapel was overflowing with the comforting scent of honeysuckles. The nun chattered on seemingly without taking a single breath. Nattering away about everything and nothing as ____ somehow found herself roped into helping with making lunch for the parishioners that day. 

“It’s been so hectic – we’re swamped already with so many of the faithful that have been displaced by demonic attacks. And now the pilgrims are coming for His Holiness’s event in two days! Mio Dio!” Maria bustled around the cramped kitchen without breaking a sweat, sleeves rolled up as she furiously chopped through a basket full of carrots. “Bless your heart for your help Signorina, we need all the helping hands we can get.”

“It’s – uh – not a problem. I’m happy to be of use.” ____ could only watch as Sister Maria flitted about the entire kitchen. Now and then directing another nun to go stir this pot, or go roll out this dough for the rolls and pies. Just watching her made ____ a little winded, she seemed to run on endless bubbly energy.

“Oh forgive me Signornia! I never got your name!” She exclaimed after some time.

“Call me ____. I’m actually here looking for work as a Hunter.”

“A Lady Hunter? That’s not an appropriate job for a young lady as yourself, even if you are a spinster.” One of the older nuns clucked disapprovingly at her.

“Sister Helena, mind your words to our guest!” Maria sharply interjected, bubbly personality turned off for the moment. “I don’t believe I should have to point out that any Hunter is considered a Soldier of God here. His Holiness’ guards are Hunters too.”

“The difference is that they are men. A woman has no place in war and battle.”

Maria threw her hands up in exasperation. She’s had this conversation one too many times with the old battle ax, nothing was going to budge her. Instead she huffed and asked for Helena to start calling in the parishioners for the luncheon before she lost her cool.

“Scusa’ Lady Hunter.” Maria crossed herself and tried to wipe away her scowl. “Sister Helena is old fashioned and sometimes it takes more than the grace of our Lord for me to remember that she was raised with a different set of beliefs.” She gave ____ a rueful smile. “But don’t let anyone make less of your profession. A Hunter is always welcome through our doors. And no doubt you will find work easily enough here with the celebrations being planned by the Holy City.”

That caught ____’s interest. Casually, “Can you tell me more about that? I only just arrived to the city last night.”

Maria nodded enthusiastically and began detailing everything she knew. It was a spontaneous event, but every now and then, the Pope would call all the faithful to him in St. Peter’s Square. In the plaza, he would descend among the faithful worshippers to lead them all into a unified prayer and to bless them. Miracles would happen, and everyone wanted to be there to Witness it and perhaps be a recipient of one.

“And in days such as these, with the increasing demonic attacks, we are in need of divine protection more than ever.”

“It sounds like a security nightmare.” ____ lightly joked, helping load an enormous tray of pot pies into the oven. “Will there be enough protection for His Holiness?”

“Oh yes, every Swiss Guard and Hunter under the employ of the Vatican will be out in full force. Although…” She looked a little abashed, “I would not suggest seeking work for the Vatican. Machismo, si? Those men are more than wary of a woman that can wield a weapon like a man. Despite that their mothers, sisters and aunts can very well use a kitchen knife to the same effect.” 

____ shrugged with a neutral smile, while internally scoffing at the unsolicited advice. “Oh, I am only seeking work in terms of demonic extermination. My specialty isn’t with security. And I’d rather leave His Holiness’ safety to those that are paid to guard him.” _Not that I really care what happens to him. I’d much rather you tell me if the bloody Vatican is going to be empty during that day._

Sensing that the nun had no more useful information to give, ____ finished up with loading the rest of the pies and excused herself to slip back out into the streets of Rome. 

The burner cell in her pocket vibrated once.

Eyes glancing discreetly around, she picked up and intently listened to the message left. A modulated voice sunnily chirped to her that there was a store she _must_ not pass up as a newcomer to Rome. After all, there were so many interesting sights to see as a tourist. The cell rang once after the message was finished and a grainy picture of a shabby secondhand pawnshop popped into view. 

_Geez, no directions?_

This was already proving to be a pain in her ass. Trudging on, she kept her eyes peeled as she meandered through the crowded streets. Trying to place the location of the pawnshop she was instructed to go to. 

She ducked into a promising looking narrow alleyway, continued on and popped out on the other side into a quieter, and more secluded area of the bustling city. Here, the buildings that loomed were older in style, antiquated. Instead of concrete sidewalks, broken tiles of dirtied mosaics crunched under her feet. Tattered curtains and shutters lined the windows on the buildings she saw. A thin crowd of homeless vagrants and drug addicts milled about, watching her with poorly concealed interest. 

She set her face into a deep scowl and made a show of flashing the gun at her hip and the long knife that suddenly jumped in her hand. Understanding the silent threat, eyes quickly averted; the owners going back to mind their own business while giving her a wide and cautious berth to move around freely. No one in the vicinity was in the mood to get their ass kicked by this ferocious looking female who clearly meant deadly business.

She slanted a glare around again, just to be sure no one was still eyeballing her. When no one dared make eye contact with her, she re-sheathed the knife and strode purposefully forward again. Following the twisting street towards a dilapidated and suspicious looking pawnshop. From inside, a gnarled looking woman gave her a snaggle tooth grin. Her teeth yellowed from age and smoke. Her weathered fingers creaked audibly as she beckoned for ____ to come up to the counter.

“Welcome, welcome.” She croaked. “Come and browse. I have many things that may strike your fancy. Buy something, there’s no reason to leave empty handed.”

Sharp eyes peered at the young woman thoughtfully. “Hmm, you look like a cheapskate. Maybe you should look at the clearance aisle instead.” The old woman cackled to herself and shuffled off to the mentioned shelves. “Come look, come look girl. There is always something here for everyone.”

____ cautiously browsed the narrow aisle. Keeping one wary eye at the old woman who hobbled slowly back to the counter to feed the birds that landed on her open window. The woman was rather cheerful despite looking like a living fossil. Must be something in the air of Rome that preserved her so well.

Her nose twitched. She fought the urge to scratch. Ugh, the place was so dusty; who knew when was the last time this place was cleaned…if it ever was. Rickety shelves towered up to her shoulders. Every available space taken up by some odd trinket and knick-knack. She raised an eyebrow at seeing piles of empty cigar boxes stacked knee high at the end. 

What was this place?

Filled to the brim with seemingly useless, overpriced things. This pawnshop felt like more of a junkyard or a hoarder’s paradise. She continued down the aisle, carefully picking her way through. Now and again crouching down to peer searchingly at the bottom shelves. That woman seemed a little too eager to direct her down here. So what was so special about this aisle?

A cloudy bottle of green sea glass caught her eye. She immediately knew it was meant to be hers…a fresh etching on the side beckoned to her. 

The Ace of Spades.

She picked it up and just to keep up appearances, lingered among the useless trinkets a little longer. Picking out a small snuff box and a broken locket, she hauled her finds to the old woman to ring up. The proprietress sniffed in slight derision at the meager sale.

“What boring taste girl. But I suppose it can’t be helped, you do look poor. No wonder you are here shopping instead of at the shinier modern stores for the tourists.”

____ fought the urge to roll her eyes and paid, walking out the store feeling rather cheated out of her money. That had been a rather pricey sale, especially for what she came here for. She stuffed the purchased items into her bag and cradled it close to her body as she retraced her steps to hurry back into the main streets. 

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt unseen eyes tracking her. ____ couldn’t decide if they were friendly or not. Her shoulders hunched in. She felt as if someone might be ready to stab her in the back at any moment. 

_Best not linger too long here then._ The paranoia made her itch something fierce. She wanted to get this part of her data gathering over with already.

Her burner cell vibrated again.

_”The Trevi Fountain is rather romantic, don’t you agree?”_

The skies rumbled ominously again as she checked the time. From where she stood, she could see the famed fountain just up ahead. She wondered which of those visitors milling about was her mysterious Network informant. A hand patted the holster hidden inside her jacket for reassurance. 

The rain fell in sheets of dirty water and ice. Hiding her, and everything from view. Pelting and needling everyone below with a wet chill that stung. ____ wasted no time in rushing towards the fountain. Grateful for the timing of Mother Nature. That strange prickle at her instincts faded away with each step closer to her next landmark.

She squinted through the water dripping into her eyes.

_So where’s the rest of the information I asked for?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Looks innocent* 
> 
> Until Next Time~


	23. Lead Me Into Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what this is about when you see a higher than normal word count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays sweetlings. Please enjoy this gift.

### Lead Me Into Temptation

Puffs of her breath fogged visibly in the cold rain. ____ gazed intently at the fountain. Unsure of what she was looking for but banking on the fact that she’ll know it when she sees it. _Hopefully._ The sounds of the rain and the water fountain sloshing masked the footsteps that sauntered over to her.

“The heavens weep at your beauty Signorina.”

____ rolled her eyes when she saw a man standing by her, smiling flirtatiously. Dark eyes twinkling at her. _You have got to be kidding me._ She scoffed and ignored him, quickly moving to another part of the fountain to search for the next clue. She hoped she didn’t have to jump in - she didn’t want to be arrested.

Annoyingly, he trailed after her. “So serious Signorina, a smile would suit you much better. But I suppose as a Lady Hunter, you must be serious in order to be taken seriously, si?” His voice was light but there was no mistaking the undercurrent of recognition in his tone.

She froze and looked back at him with a suspicious glare. “What did you just say?” A hand fisted at her side.

He looped his arm with hers and dragged her under his umbrella. “There is plenty of room for two; just squeeze in closer.” His voice dropped to a whisper, leaning his head close to her ear, “Come this way, it is too public out here.”

He dragged her to a side chapel nearby - Rome was littered with so many of these. Some were even abandoned. Tilting his head, he let his eyes rake over her lasciviously; noting how her clothes clung so fetchingly to her lush curves. “My, I didn’t expect to be assisting such a beauty. Mio Dio, but you are intense.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “One look into your eyes and I am doomed, Lady Hunter. I have glimpsed a beauty that burns like the sun and I am Icarus. I want to fly closer and let you sear my poor soul into ashes.”

Ok, he was laying it on really thick, she thought in derision. A long time ago, perhaps he might have tickled the deeply buried romantic in her awake. But now, he rang false - too charming, too suave to fool her. Not to mention, the flair for dramatics reminded her too much of Cecilia, it made her feel like she should check her pockets to make sure her wallet was still there.

Instead, she clicked a gun under his chin, an unimpressed look on her face. “Back off Casanova. Or else I’m going to make you regret it.”

He sighed and reluctantly eased off, just a little. Giving her the much needed personal space. Sparkling eyes still winked at her mischievously. “Please call me Luca, Lady Hunter. My name from your lips will send me to the heavens.” He flirted, despite the immediate danger of being shot for his cheek. 

“I think shooting you will get you there faster.” 

He threw his head back and roared deep from his belly. “You are merciless Lady Hunter!” He grinned, this time more genuine. “I believe that you’re going to be one of the more entertaining Hunters I’ll have the pleasure of working with.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Give me a good reason to believe you. Right now I’m pretty tempted to just put a bullet in your head and hide your body in the ossuary of this chapel.”

He grinned slyly, the fox like trickster expression made him seem so much dangerous now. “How about this for proof of my sincerity ____?” He leaned in close and whispered her Network password against her lips. A hand reached round to slip something into her back pocket. Although he also helped himself to a slight squeeze before retracting his hand. The stunned look of disbelief made the grandstanding all the worthwhile. She looked so comical in her surprise and indignation.

Luca stepped back and bowed to her with a sweeping flourish. “I am Lucero, one of the Network's Suits sent here to assist you at your request.” He flashed a tattoo of the Ace of Spades on his wrist. “Of course, there are limits to how much I can help with. This is after all, _your_ mission.” He winked, “But for a beautiful Signorina like yourself, I can always be persuaded to bend the rules a little.” He leered at her suggestively.

Ugh, just no. She already had enough on her plate dealing with V. And Luca just flat out annoyed and creeped the hell out of her. 

She shot a bullet at his foot in warning, narrowly missing him. On purpose. Luca jumped back in surprise, before grinning widely at her. “Such passion Signorina! I am truly moved beyond tears! Ah but I have lingered far too long now in your radiance. Goodbye goodbye, parting is such sweet sorrow!” 

She winced visibly as he wept crocodile tears before striding out into the rain. Heat from annoyance suffused her face when some of the old women passing by clicked their tongues, muttering to each other about how awful she was to treat a handsome young man with such coldness in public. ____ growled and glared fiercely at the nosy women. Feeling some satisfaction when they crossed themselves and hurried away.

Holstering back her gun, and running a hand through her still dripping hair, she glanced around the deserted chapel. Making up her mind, she darted towards the side and found an empty closet. She pulled out the burner cell that was slipped to her. Then dug into her pack for the bottle, noticing now that there was something rattling inside. 

_A memory card?_

Fingers searched around for the slot for the card on the phone. She clicked it in, it vibrated with a new text.

_You have 30 hours to utilize what is stored on this chip before it wipes itself. Best of luck Lady Hunter._

Eyes widened as she eagerly scanned the contents. Recent surveillance videos of the Vatican. Up close videos of the Vatican at that. She impatiently thumbed through a few random files. Seeing that entire city was crawling with the infamous Swiss Guards and Hunters. ____ wondered how exactly how she would even start in trying to plan a break in into the most guarded city in the world. There seemed to be no way into this impenetrable fortress of a city.

_This is insane. What exactly are they trying to accomplish here anyways with sending their own Hunters into a place like this?_ The growing uneasiness at her employer’s motives tickled her innate paranoia and survivor’s instinct to life. The current standing mission given to her so far…was to simply just check and _test_ the security. Which she took to mean, as actually trying to see firsthand how capable they were at guarding their precious Holy City.

Fingers nearly crushed the cell as she considered her next step. She’ll have to think long and hard and be meticulous in her planning. As of now, the mass event for the faithful in two days may be her best chance to progress further with her mission.

…and possibly to find out a little more about what the Network may be up to.

She packed up and quickly left after making sure she left no trace behind. Her belly growled. Food first and a little rest. There was no way in hell she was going to work on an empty stomach. 

** \---------- Later that night, V’s hotel room ---------- **

V raked covetous eyes over the sleeping form of his sweet lamb. Biting on his thumb sensuously, he felt that obsessive need hit him in full force again. It’s a completely different type of Madness for him. This need to have her, own her in every way; this need that was as all-consuming as his hungry soul. 

It made him _itch_ terribly.

This distraction that’s become an obsession. It was proving to be a bit more of a nuisance that he originally calculated. That night in Amalfi was supposed to have purged this inexplicable desire once and for all. His lamb was proving herself to be quite a handful and he couldn’t afford to keep wasting his time in keeping her in line.

That night should have been his first and last taste of her.

Ah, but therein lay the crux of the matter, he mused. That taste proved addicting. He licked his lips at the memory of the aftermath. Closing his eyes to briefly relive it again.

_There he was. Riding the high of her submission to him. Hearing his name in her broken, blissed cries of ecstasy before her body completely shut down from the overload of pleasure and pain he’s wrung her through. His body thrummed in pure male satisfaction at how wrecked she looked in repose. _

_Poor little lamb._

_So soft..._

_So vulnerable..._

_...so utterly defenseless. _

_“You sweet thing.” His voice rumbled into a sinister growl. “You truly have no idea what you do to me, do you?” _

_Hands lightly danced their way up to her neck. Long elegant fingers carefully wrapped round. Thumbs pressing down gently into the soft column of her neck. His cock stirred again at the sight of her at his mercy. V narrowed his eyes at his body’s instinctive response. This was troublesome. _

** _V’s miscalculated. _ **

_This...passing fascination of his…has turned into a full blown obsession. He licked his lips, still tasting remnants of her sweetness on his tongue. Those fingers curled a little tighter. She continued to sleep on. Unaware of the dangerous indecision that raged in the predator that’s spent over a month stalking her. _

_ I’ve lost an unacceptable amount of time with this distraction. The Qliphoth grows and I - _

_V’s lost quite a bit of time with his little...fixation. More than he would’ve liked with what was supposed to be a brief and minor dalliance. He’s both enraged and concerned by it. _

_After all, she’s been a rather costly distraction. Chasing after her and stalking her in between his research. The gnawing itch to force her into submission that sometimes even subsumed his need to feed the void of his half soul. _

_It was alarming to him. To have spiraled so deep into obsession. Those fingers tightened just a little more. He could do it. _

_Should do it. _

_…Kill her. _

_... ... _

_... ... _

_...but it’s **such** a damned waste. He’s invested so much time and energy into his game with her. And V found himself not satisfied with the thought of just this one night to satiate his lust. This wasn’t over…not by a long shot. _

_Plus she was useful. Delicious body aside, his lamb was a capable Hunter in her own right. He could make use of her skills for his benefit. It was always handy to have another weapon at his disposal._

_His body throbbed in impatience, reminding him again of a much more pressing need. V wavered a little longer. He let his cock make the decision. Hands slowly, almost reluctantly uncurled and moved to instead cradle her head. V leaned in close, lips against hers. A gleam of unholy glee and anger in his eyes._

_ “Don’t make me regret this.” _

_As long as she continues to entertain him...she’ll live to see another day. He grinned sharply._

She truly had no idea how fortunate she was to have narrowly escaped with her life still intact. Because she had more worth to him alive than dead. For now.

V dragged his tongue slowly across his lips as he unfolded himself from the armchair he lounged in. Quickly undressing as he stalked to the bed. That particular memory stirred him up quite a bit. And he was never one to deny himself with his desires.

Emerald eyes swept leisurely over the sprawled form of his little lamb. _Such a treat._ He loomed predatorily over her, lust humming hot in his veins. He had planned on letting her rest a little longer but she looked far too tempting spread out like that. The sweetness in her face made his teeth sharpen in unbridled need to sink deep inside her. The way she slept on, unaware of the hungry predator watching her closely, made his cock throb painfully. A tongue darted to wet his lips in anticipation. 

His little lamb. _In his bed. Wrapped in his sheets._ His scent saturating her skin, mixing with her own heady scent of honeysuckles. V couldn’t resist stripping those sheets off, baring her to his searing gaze. 

He heard her moan softly into her pillow and smirked when she shifted restlessly. Was his little lamb still unsatisfied? Dreaming of him filling her completely? 

He should indulge her. She’s been such a good girl lately. And what kind of gentleman would he be if he just ignored her obvious…_distress_? A thumb ghosted over her lips.

Her eyes fluttered but not opening fully at the touch. A sliver of consciousness pulled her a little closer to awakening. ____ felt her chest begin to heave. Her breaths came out as short, shuddering gulps of air. Her hips lifted slightly as she floated between the limbo of not quite awake but not quite dreaming either. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, tasting the salt of her perspiration. Her head tossed to the side, another groan stirring in her throat. She couldn’t get enough air.

She felt so feverish.

Why was it so hot? What was going on? She should be sleeping.

____ gasped and arched, her thoughts scattering from her grasp. She was getting distracted by the all too vivid dream running rampant in her head. Of hot open mouthed kisses at her neck. A dark sinful laugh ringing inside her head, heating her blood. Her thighs parted by insistent, eager hands.

“—ah!-“ A sharp cry of pleasure slipped from her, a hand shot out to the side to clutch at the rumpled sheets. Fingers twisted the cloth tightly. Restlessly.

____ felt herself clench. Felt a wetness trickle down her thighs. She writhed as ghostly caresses swirled teasingly around her clit, smearing the hot slickness of her arousal around. She jolted **wide awake** when she felt teeth stinging kisses at her inner thigh. 

“What-?” That felt real. **Alarmingly real.**

“Awake at last, little lamb?” That all too familiar sinuous drawl tutted playfully. “You’ve been quite rude, keeping me waiting for so long.” 

She’s fully awake now.

And very fully aware that she’s been stripped naked. With an equally nude tattooed summoner grinning at her hungrily from between her legs. His hands moved to pin her hips down, keeping her from scooting back and out of the bed. Making sure that she didn’t escape him. He tsk’d, a teasing smirk curling on the corners of his lips at the wide eyed expression of apprehension on his lamb’s face.

“You’re not going anywhere. We have some unfinished business, you and I.” 

She flushed in embarrassment when his fingers plunged suddenly into her tight, wet heat. It sounded so filthy. So obscene to hear herself so fucking wet already. Her head fell back against the pillows as a needy whine tore from her throat. Legs unconsciously spread open wider, wanting more. _Deeper._ Her cunt clenched, fluttering frantically around his wicked fingers as he pressed them deeper, seeking for that spot inside that would shatter her into sweet submission. The curling fingers in her creaming pussy poured lightning hot need into her veins. She stifled a moan with her hand, biting into it harshly to try and keep herself from losing complete control. 

She swallowed thickly, already panting. “I have to be dreaming, _ah_-“ No way was this happening right? Didn’t she just fall asleep in her own bed earlier? 

“This is no dream.” He assured darkly as he leaned in to lap long stripes up and down, from her clit to her gushing cunt, greedily. Filling his mouth with the cream generously pouring just for him. He swirled the tip of his tongue around the taut overheated bundle of nerves, grinning darkly in male satisfaction as she bucked her hips into his face for more. Such a good girl, such a _greedy_ thing. 

“Been a fucking torture just watching and waiting to have you again little lamb.” He growled, prowling slowly up her body to glare hotly down at her. Trapping her beneath him.

A hand cupped her chin, lifting her eyes to his smoldering gaze. Dare she say, he looked **almost** affectionate. _If_, she ignored the possessive manic gleam in his eyes. But she can’t deny that there is a much more noticeable indulgence in his touch this time. Or rather - a more accurate statement would be, he’s a little less violent in playing with her this time around.

It might have to do with the singular fact that she hasn’t pissed him off yet.

And perhaps a lot of how needy they both are right now. **Ravenous** to relieve the sexual hunger between the two of them. Right now, thoughts of everything else was firmly muted. Right now, it was just going to be about the two of them feeding that insatiable want that flared unbearably inside. The urge to recapture that ecstasy from fucking each other raw. 

V swooped in, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth. He bit down sharply, tasting the sweet blood flowing to his tongue, coating the back of his throat thickly. She whimpered, hands reaching to clutch at his biceps as he sucked hard on her abused lip. The sting turning into searing pleasure in her brain. His tongue parted her lips to sweep fully into her mouth, tasting every crevice and leaving her with the honeyed tang of herself lingering on her lips. 

Her legs shifted beneath him, hooking behind him to being him closer. Soft body arching slightly up into his. So responsive already to his touch. ____ groaned as fingers drew feather light patterns up and down her ribs. Lightly skimming up to her breasts, circling teasingly around her hardening nipples. She could feel those sharp nails itching to dig deep into her to leave bruises that will brand her for days. A sharp flick across her pebbled nubs stung hotly across her nerves. She bucked further up into him, gasping into his greedy mouth. Succumbing to the crush of her Bernini devil. He growled in approval as she began to tentatively reciprocate his kisses. 

“That’s it little lamb. Take your pleasure from me. Let me see you give into me.” He pressed his hips as close as he could without penetrating her, teasingly rolling his hardening cock against her. Letting her feel the enormous length just aching to be buried in her tight heat again. The heavy arousal rubbing maddeningly between the dewy folds, rasping against her thrumming core, made her whine and thrash. Every pass of his cock over her clit built her desire to be filled beyond her tolerance. So unbearably good, _but not good enough_. There was just enough pleasure to keep her hovering on the knife edge of orgasm. But she wanted more.

“V –“ She gasped, her hips moving desperately against him, wanting this man to give her completion. To stop fucking teasing her. Already pleading for the fallen angel to wreck unholy pleasure on her again. 

“Don’t be so impatient. We’re taking our time tonight.” He coaxed in a honeyed voice. He briefly slipped his fingers back into her again, letting her arousal coat them. V brought his slickened fingers to his lips, taking his time in sucking them clean. Savoring the honeyed sweetness of her need for him.

She looked up warily at him for a long moment. Words registering in her lust fogged brain. _This was new._ She had expected more of V pushing her towards letting him take control. Of him pushing her into submission. 

“What are you playing at now V?”

“So suspicious.” He chuckled. “Just let go and enjoy yourself ____.” V purred, tracing her jaw. “What do you truly have to lose right now besides yourself to the pleasure I’m offering?”

A devil’s bargain if she ever heard one.

But…she also couldn’t ignore the throb of her body. Couldn’t ignore how wound up the man has made her. He’s haunted her waking moments and nightmares. Lurked in her thoughts far too much lately. 

She couldn’t resist this fallen angel’s temptation.

Not with the way he’s effectively herded her into the unenviable position of trying to weigh the risks of giving in versus being forced into submission. The traitorous voice in her head whispered insidiously, why not just make it easier on herself this time around? It felt so good before…and it would feel just as good now, if not better.

Curiosity gets the better of her. Hesitantly, a hand cautiously moved up his arm to lightly settle on his shoulder. Experimentally curling her fingers into him. Taking in the smoothness of his flesh, feeling how hot his body ran beneath her touch. He was all male, all lean, taut muscles tensing and rippling beneath her fingers. Her eyes are trained on his face the entire time, intently watching the expressions that flashed across his face. A headiness inexplicably warmed her belly at the blatant approval in his expressions.

This is _different_ than that night in Amalfi. She could feel his restraint as her hands slowly grew bolder in its caresses. Drifting across the sharp angles of his shoulders, her palms sweaty as she dragged them down his arms, feeling the muscles cord for her benefit. Remembering the way he used that strength to restrain her last time. Strangely, now all she could think about was how well he could use his stamina and endurance to fuck her raw all night. The terror from that night was a dim memory in the fires of desire that burned through her veins.

The way she innocently explored him made V grin ferally, his lamb was so precious. Acting as if one wrong move will set him on tearing her apart like the tasty morsel she is.

_She’s not wrong on that._ He quipped to himself, darkly amused.

For ____ it’s a novel experience. Like being caged with a half tamed Beast that was leisurely deciding on when to devour her. Note, not if but when. V is _patiently_ letting her explore him at her own pace. The danger that he can snap at any moment and shatter this illusion of consent was heady and went straight to her head. 

She stifled a gasp of fascination as she finally noticed how his tattoos moved and swirled all over his body. Shifting into shadowed fantastical shapes before her eyes. Tattoos were always a weak spot for her. The fact that his caught her interest since Fortuna made this perusal all the more intriguing for her, now that she’s be given the chance to see them up close. _No way were these normal ink._ “Do they always move like that?” She wondered aloud. 

“Yes. Do you find them that fascinating?” He huffed, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She pinked and turned her head to the side, choosing not to answer. V’s eyes glittered, oh he knew how much she _liked_ them. She had fucking sketched them perfectly from memory as a momento after all.

Instead, she let her hands flutter to roam his chest, fingers tracing the eddies of his inked swirls. V gritted his teeth as he kept himself still for her. The gentle hesitant hands, innocently exploring him made his cock twitch against her thigh, demanding acknowledgment.

Honestly, the things she did to him. His sweet tender little lamb. But V wanted her to come to him; and that meant reigning in the urge to selfishly take what he hungered for. He wanted her willing surrender. To consciously choose to be ruined by him. He ran his tongue over his teeth at that thought, letting the sharp edges sting him to bring him back into focus.

His arms tensed and the muscles bunched taut when her blunted nails lightly scratched down his chest towards his belly. Hands swerving exploratory to his sides and then cautiously down his hips towards his jutting, hardened arousal.

____ stopped short of just grazing the head. The air between them electrified by the close proximity of her fingers to his aching cock. Her eyes took in the well-endowed girth that ripped her apart before. The tip glistened with precum, his entire arousal hung heavily and ready to batter her raw. _Just how in the hell had that fit inside?_ He was impossibly long and thick. 

**“Touch me.”** He growled enticingly, his hand reaching to wrap her small hand around his thick cock. Her fingers could barely wrap fully around him. He pumped her hand up and down, showing her exactly how to please him. “Just like that.” He commanded. Even though she was fondling the most sensitive part of his anatomy, V remained in iron control of her and of the situation. Never once letting her forget who exactly was in charge. Filthy praises dripped from his honeyed lips in between guttural demands as he instructed her thoroughly on how to best please him.

“Yes, do it again little lamb.” V groaned as her hand palmed his sac, briefly squeezing before sweeping back up to milk him further. “Don’t you dare stop stroking my hard cock.” He purred, a hand reaching to curl around the back of her neck warningly. He thrusted in time with her fist. Precum slicked over her fingers, helping her tiny hand slide over him easier and faster. V watched as her tongue darted out to lick her lips nervously, the heated gaze flickering in his eyes was feral and it both unnerved and excited her.

V could think of a _much_ better use for that tongue. 

Long elegant fingers slipped to tangle in her sweat slicked hair. That dangerous grin flashing at her again. She yelped as he yanked sharply back, forcing her face upwards. A punishing kiss stole her breath. Leaving her lips tingling from the sheer force of lust and ownership he poured into that simple action.

Pulling her hand away, he sharply yanked her up to her knees by her hair with a growl.

“Up little lamb. I want you to fuck my cock with that sweet mouth of yours.”

He lightly slapped the weeping head at her reddened lips. The hand twisted in her hair forced her closer. The hot, moistness of her heavy breaths on him made him twitch in anticipation. “Open up sweet thing or I can do this the hard way and force it down your throat.” An illusion of choice - but of course V was going to fuck her throat raw anyways. It just made it far more entertaining for him to coax her into willingly letting herself be used this way.

There is a small flame of shame for being degraded in this manner; her pride struggled against the way V had her on her hands and knees, and at the way he leered at her, as if she was nothing more than a toy that only existed for his entertainment. He was masterfully stripping away her identity, her pride, her strength...and her will to resist with his dark and raw sensuality. 

She is starting to learn an unwanted truth about herself as curls of lightning hot desire radiated up her spine, scorching every nerve it could find when his grip tightened and prickles of pain tingled deliciously at her scalp. She _wanted_ to be treated in this way...only by him. Anyone else, and she’d have no hesitation in skewering them with her sword. But with V - it’s becoming harder and harder to hold onto the will to hold out and resist. More difficult to cling to the recoiling fear and shame. She grew up being taught that it’s so wrong to want to be used this way. Letting someone degrade her into nothing more than an object for pleasure.

And yet she can’t deny how dangerously V has made it addictive to her.

It was becoming so hard to want to keep running from a man that is as dangerous as he is beautiful. There was something about him that overwhelmed her usual stubbornness - something insidiously slithering through her that made her incoherent to everything but giving herself over to his questionable mercy.

It was terrifying… **foolish** to give this man any sort of power over her. Because he’s the type who will never relinquish it. 

And yet...

“Do it sweet thing. You _want_ to please me, I know you do. There’s no reason to fight it. It’s. What. You. Want. Why struggle when it would feel so good to give in.” He coaxed. A pale finger lightly slipped into her hot mouth, teasing her with shallow thrusts; in and out, in and out.

____ swallowed thickly as the desire he stoke in her with his words overwhelmed her. Sinking her deeply in his grasp. She can’t think clearly. Instead her aroused state has her submitting to him while her mind blisses out on auto pilot. Subdued by lust for this fallen angel. _But she knows she’ll regret this later when her sanity and common sense decides to come back._

Her lips parted wide and let his cock slide into her waiting mouth, wrapping wetly around his hardened length. Above her, V fisted both hands into her hair, forcing her to take him fully to the hilt. He watched in satisfaction as her eyes watered from the painful stretch of her throat as she choked him down. Could see the drool already trickling down her chin to her chest. But V felt the most satisfaction from the way her wet eyes were blown wide in desire for his abuse. 

“Such a good lamb. Suck me off - Be my good, sweet girl.” He growled, towering over her like a primal god. His hips snapped roughly into her, forcing her to adjust to the hard rhythm he’s set. He hissed as her teeth scraped against the ridges and veins of his throbbing length. Amusement curled through him at the way she struggled to take him in fully - everything about him was simply too big for her to take properly.

_All the better_. He wanted her to break. V wanted to hurt her, make enough gaps within her to slip inside and bury himself deep. Not just physically. V will force himself into every aspect of her very existence. Integrate himself so deeply that she can’t ever live without him. 

He’ll haunt her every waking moment. 

He’ll be waiting to prowl in her dreams and make them her nightmares.

And the best part - she’ll **willingly** allow that to happen. Submit to him and be leashed. She’ll come to understand that this is her inevitable fate. She doomed herself the moment she crossed his path and piqued the dangerous predator’s interest. The sweet vulnerability she tries to hide from the world. The stubborn will to fight him tooth and nail at every turn to not give in...even the infuriating habit of throwing herself into danger and her penchant for disobedience...V will claim it all for himself.

Because he will settle for nothing less than owning her completely.

She is sobbing lightly from the harsh abuse to her throat. Choking and gagging. Her mind is fuzzy from the lack of oxygen and from the heady awareness that V could simply suffocate her to death by stuffing his cock down her throat and depriving her burning lungs of oxygen. Her hands gripped at his thighs and hips for balance as he continued to ram into her more erratically. His eyes riveted at the sight of him roughly forcing his cock past her swollen lips. 

“I’m going to cum.” He tightened, feeling his release crashing hard into him. “Don’t you dare spill a single drop my little lamb. Drink it all up like a good girl.” He pulled her head down once more, keeping her still as he pumped his cum down her battered throat. Pushing her down the entire length of his cock until her lips wrapped around the base. He doesn’t release her, forcing her to continue to gag down his thick, hot cum. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as she did her best to swallow him down. The muscles fluttered and tightened sporadically as she continued to fight against her gag reflex. 

When V was satisfied, he roughly pulled her off, savoring the weak coughs as she struggled to remember how to breathe properly. “Very very good sweet thing.” He leered down at her. “Now, turn around, on your hands and knees.” 

Another flush of humiliation made her hesitate briefly before lowering herself down for him. V smirked as he repositioned himself. Hands trailed from her shoulders, caressing the expanse of her bared, vulnerable back. He scratched a nail down the curve of her spine, admiring the faint pink line marring her skin. A hand brushed against the scarred ‘V’ on her hip. 

Male pride swelled in him as he idly traced it over and over. He will need to add a few more on her. This one was starting to heal over completely, he mused with a bit of disappointment. “How I adore seeing my mark on you.” He murmured, bending to lap at the scar. “It suits you perfectly.”

She inhaled sharply as she felt his lips move further down, hot breath tickling her quivering cunt. V licked his lips. Her thighs were slick and shining from the arousal streaming down from her needy core. He lightly puffed on her exposed dewy flesh, smirking as she jolted forward in surprise.

“So tense?” He teased, the tip of a long elegant finger lightly rimming the silken folds. “I should remedy that.” He purred sinfully, slowly sinking in that finger deep, deep inside. 

Her hands fisted the sheets as he torturously pumped his finger. In and out. She clenched her teeth at the slow drive and burn of lust flaring through her. Her pussy clamped hard on his finger, wanting more - needing to be filled more fully. Desperately needing more friction. She was burning from the need to cum so badly.

“Such a greedy little lamb. You’re fucking dripping down my hand and all from just a finger. So hungry for what I can only give you.”

She couldn’t smother the needy whine as he pulled away. V closed his eyes as he lapped his finger clean. Savoring the taste of his lamb as he would a fine wine. Everything about her was so damn addicting. V would never get enough.

“Poor thing, look at you trembling.” He crooned, cupping her between her legs. Watching her squirm. “All wet and needy - do you want more?” He goaded, slipping his finger back into her. “Don’t be so shy - let me hear it. Tell me how much you want my cock to fuck you. I’ll fill you up and make you forget your own name.” He promised, “...all you have to do is _beg_ for it.” Another finger slipped into her. He scissored them to stretch her. “Don’t fucking hold out on me sweet thing. I know you want it...”

He watched her through his lashes, terribly amused at her obstinate silence, that she’s not yet desperate enough to beg for his cock. Still trying to cling to her pride despite how much she’s already given him. Always a fighter. He grinned darkly, how much longer does she think she can hold out? He wondered. He can read her frustration as clear as day. His little lamb was so indecisive about what she wanted. How fortunate that he was there to show her the truth.

A light sob caught in her throat. A tiny part of her still wants to be rebellious. She can’t - doesn’t want to be reduced to his little whore, begging for him to give her relief. But her body is throbbing painfully from unfulfilled need. Her control is fraying fast as he continued to tease and edge her. Bringing her fast and hard to a dizzying peak before sharply pulling her back from the edge. Again and again. Over and over until she swears she going mad from being denied her orgasm.

____ is fighting a losing battle between clinging to the tattered remains of her obstinacy and giving into desire, and her body betrays her. 

She cried, jerking forward as a fingernail flicked at her thrumming clit. Sharp pleasure rippled up to her brain, but it was far too weak to make her cum. All it served to do was remind her of how much she needed relief and to frustrate her further.

“Oh sweet ____, how willful you are.” 

He removed his fingers and replaced it with his tongue. “I’ll break you.” He promised, diving in to lap and slurp at her weeping cunt. Fingers parting her, spreading her open wide for him. His tongue swirled and dipped to drink her in fully. She was too sensitive from all the edging. Her thighs quivered violently from the overload of friction. Her wobbling arms gave out and she collapsed head first into the bed. The position lifted her hips higher and left her more exposed.

She was positively _gushing_, all for him. He cruelly paused right before she came. Letting her hang precariously on the edge she desperately wanted to careen over. He trailed his lips over the plump flesh of her derrière, purposely ignoring the frustrated sobs she was failing to stifle. 

“Are you ready to submit sweet thing?” Another long, slow lick. “Ready to tell me what I want to hear?”

Just…_fuck!_ She gasped, voice hoarse and ragged. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“V - I ...”. She trailed off, panting heavily when his tongue playfully lapped at her again. Her thoughts scattered as she fisted her hands from the brief jolts of pleasure. She writhed as his fingers filled her again, bringing her quickly back to the peak before ripping away to leave her wanting and empty again. She sobbed, she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything was too sensitive - he was drawing out her torture too much. 

_Damn him._ She swallowed her tattered pride. Could feel him eagerly waiting behind her - for her submission. He leaned over her, larger body caging over her. Ready to devour her as soon as she gave in. Admitted defeat to him.

“There’s no need to keep resisting what you want ____. Say it.” He coaxed, soft voice intimate in her ear. “Give me what I want and I will take care of you.”

____ felt so dirty when she finally caved in. “Please, please, please V. Please let me cum. I can’t take it anymore.” Her voice was frantic with desperation. Hysterical.

His hands twisted her head back. “You can do much better than that sweet lamb.” He growled, displeasure darkening his face. “Beg for it.” He commanded forcefully. **“Properly.”**

Tears slipped from her eyes, down her cheeks. He wanted her full submission. None of this vague pleading in an attempt to sidestep his instructions. She struggled against the humiliation but the dissatisfaction from being denied was too strong to ignore any longer. She was only human and no match for this sensual devil that played her lust against her masterfully.

“I - I need you to fuck me V. Please - fuck me hard! I can’t - I want your cock in me.” She was in near hysterics as the words spilled desperately from her lips as fingers swirled teasingly round her clit. Her face hot from shame and embarrassment for sounding like a needy whore. But that didn’t stop her lust from spiking higher when she voiced how badly she wanted him. “I’ll do what you want. Just please no more teasing.”

“See? Not so difficult is it?”

Fingers bruised her hips as he dug them in hard. Pulling her towards him. Cunt tightening in anticipation. Her breath shuddered and stopped in her chest as he rammed himself in one rough thrust. The sudden stretch of her aching core left her gasping for breath. Her body arched instinctively into him.

“Fucking wet and tight, all for me. Oh sweet lamb - how perfect you are.” He rumbled smugly, pulling all the way out before driving in, burying himself fully to the hilt.

Every ridge, every vein - she felt it all with each thrust. The velveted walls of her pussy clenched and spasmed around him. He snapped his teeth on her shoulder. Fuck! It felt like she was strangling his cock with how tightly she gripped him. He pushed harder into her, forcing her body to stretch and open wider for him. Hands impatiently pressed her head down into the mattress before spreading her legs further.

How he loved the way she desperately cried his name in supplication. Adored how her hips slammed back into his, meeting each thrust frantically as she chased down her orgasm. _Finally._ The wet slaps of their skin; the perfect harmony to her sweet voice sobbing in pleasure and his deep growls of male satisfaction.

“You take me so well. You were made for my cock.” He chuckled sinfully above her. “Such a perfect, perfect lamb. MY greedy girl.”

She could feel V pushing her violently towards her peak. Felt the beginnings of her orgasm begin to crest over her. Violent sparks of pleasure skittered up her spine to explode as blinding starbursts behind her eyes. She screamed his name, and only his name as he shattered her into infinite pieces; each one writhing uncontrollably in pure ecstasy.

“You’re not done yet little lamb. I will wring every last drop of pleasure from you until you cry from cumming too many times.”

She choked as he fucked her into the mattress even harder, the bed rocking with the force of each brutal snap of his hips. Her heart nearly stopped as another orgasm quickly crushed her. It came on quick and powerful, leaving her no time to recover.

His fingers reached to tweak and twist her nipples. Hands hot and sweaty as he palmed them roughly. She groaned from the added stimulation of pain to the pleasure he drowned her in. Her breaths came in short staccato pants as he fucked her through yet another world shattering orgasm that sent her reeling into an ecstasy she never wanted to return from.

God - how many did he plan to wring out of her exhausted body? The pleasure he heaped on her edged towards pain. Every nerve on her body too fried, too over stimulated. The friction becoming too intense - too damn much.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already sweet thing.” He mocked, hand curling around her neck, below her jaw to lift her head up. He bottomed out into her, the head battering painfully against her cervix. He felt her swallow thickly against his hot palm, could see her face scrunching in a mix of pleasure and agony. 

“You’ll take a little more for me, won’t you?” He released her and let her collapse back onto her arms as he pumped harder. He was close - very very close. 

His fingers circled her clit, sending more shocks of lightning hot lust through her body. _There it was_ \- V snarled in triumph as she began to sob brokenly, incoherently begging for him to stop even as she came hard for him again. Entire body shuddering violently, crumpling completely beneath him. Dark spots danced across her flickering vision. She couldn’t string together a single thought. Could only try to hold onto consciousness and hope that V would finish soon so she could rest her abused body.

Her pussy clamped so tightly around him, like a vise as she howled into the sheets in pure pleasure. Her mind reeled, swept away by the orgasm he forced her through. He groaned loudly, wantonly, as he slammed harder into her, pumping his thick, hot cum inside her battered cunt. There was so much of it that he felt it spill out of her to trickle down their thighs. Breathing heavily, he pulled out to stroke himself back down from his high, eyes fixated at the creamy trails of their mixed arousals streaming from her quivering hole. 

He chuckled as he reached for her. Amusement curling his lips as she jerked weakly away from him, whining softly, tiredly.

She was so exhausted. Her body wrung thoroughly by him. Completely wrecked. “Please V - no more. I can’t take anymore.” Her voice is no more than a ragged whisper, having screamed her throat raw.

He hushed her and pulled her to him. Settling them both comfortably on the bed. Savoring the way their sweat slicked bodies stuck together.

So compliant. She looked torn between sexually satiated and internally miserable for giving into him again.

“…Why me?”

A dark, sinuous rumble of laughter burst from his reddened lips. 

“Oh sweet thing - hung up on that are you? My, what a curious little lamb...I suppose I can indulge you in this. You see...A man like me gets so terribly bored, very easily.”

A hot swipe of his tongue up the column of her neck made her shiver.

“I am sure you can easily imagine, what lengths I am willing to go to _relieve_ my ennui, yes?” He hummed in delight when she swallowed nervously as his sharp teeth pressed at her vulnerable jugular. Could feel the slightly panicked pulse echoing all through his body, thrumming in fearful anticipation.

“And that sweet lamb, is where YOU come in...” He purred, a hand drifting up to cradle her neck loosely. “To be quite honest, I’m surprised myself at how long you’ve held my attention...I truly only had plans to toy with you a little after the castle before I-“. He chuckled again, “Well, crudely put; before I fucked and ate you.”

He nosed the crook of her neck, relishing the way she trembled slightly against him as his revelations sunk in. His hands drifted over her body; fingertips feather light over her skin. A finger idly traced the ‘V’ on her hip. “Of course, plans change. You are a delight, did I ever tell you that?” Teeth nipped playfully across her neck. The gasps whispered from her lips fueled his desires again. God, it’s never going to be enough - no matter how many times he’s tasted her; IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH. “You make me want to destroy you utterly. Always defying and challenging me. Infuriating woman.” He hissed in her ear. “My world is never dull when it revolves around you, dear ____.” He ended with a low, dangerous growl.

“And so...” He rolled over to hover over her, breathing heavily on her lips, eyes glittering maniacally. His cock straining to life again, demanding that he take what belonged to him. To claim her all over again. Just even reminiscing on how she’s effectively snagged his attention made him incredibly hard. He hummed to himself, deciding that he’s said enough. “Really, you don’t need to know everything to understand that you are mine to do with as I please.”

____ had no idea, really, the havoc she’s wreaked on V. As much as he’s upended her life, she has done the same in equal measure to his. V slammed his lips against hers, teeth catching her tongue and biting down _hard_ to draw bloodied whimpers of pain from her. His hips rolled into the juncture of her legs, his intent as clear as the arousal pressing insistently into her.

His sweet, tender lamb was _special_. She’s done the impossible. Made him desperate to own her in every way; to wrap himself around her so tightly that she will never escape -

Those elegant fingers curled threateningly around her throat. He looked murderous as he slowly, tenderly squeezed. Watched in cold satisfaction as she tried to pry his fingers away, trying to escape the darkness blotting away her consciousness. Her body writhing and jolting with the way his cock rammed inside her yet again. She choked on her cries of ecstasy and fear as he buried himself deep and hard. 

V tightened his fingers possessively.

A snarl on his lips. Face twisted in dark pleasure.

_You’ve ruined me, and I will make you pay for that...._____ \- _**I will have you reciprocate every desire I have for you.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for stopping by.
> 
> Until next time~


	24. Fermata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nasty run in with a Vatican Hunter leaves you in a dire situation. The scenario triggers an old memory of yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update for MRKH - and how excited I am sweetlings because now...heh. Well I will let you find out what I have in store for yourselves.
> 
> Fermata = Interval between two notes
> 
> **Warning - There is a slight hint of some uncomfortable topics. Namely a squint of underage prostitution and underage fighting dens**

### Fermata

Suffocating.

The faithful pressed close together. Crammed tightly; shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, into the tiny square. Many of them dutifully prayed over their rosaries as they waited for the arrival of their spiritual leader. The rest hunched in and furtively hoped that they were not witnessing the End of Days. Desperate for anything that could ease their growing fears of the uncertainty of what seemed to be a bleak future unfolding before them. The confirmed presences of demons; hell spawn; running amok fueled their nightmares. Stories trickled to them through every source of media; of cities much like Rome, crumbling overnight and laying deserted, devoid of life. Cities that only were inhabited by demons, and strange roots and whose streets were littered with the bloodless husks of its inhabitants. It chilled their weak hearts. 

The Trials of the Lord, the priests and nuns would murmur as they crossed themselves. 

Hell on Earth, the laity countered back when they prayed fearfully at home. 

“Nowhere is safe, I’m telling you - coming out to this event is madness!”

“You would doubt the powers of the Vatican to protect us? We are safer here than anywhere else and if Armageddon should come today, I would rather be here than out there with the godless heathens.”

“Idiot! Fools! Faith does not cut down the demons that plague our borders, the Hunters do. I’m only here because this is the closest place I can run to that has their own army of Hunters to keep the city safe.”

“Hunters may protect your flesh but the souls of sinners like you won’t be saved by the grace of the Lord if you are only here for your own interests.”

The bickering repeated itself throughout the crowd in more or less the same way. 

____ lowered her head and quietly flitted by the edge of the jostling crowd. The square was filled with agitated whispers, buzzing like angry bees in her ears. Everyone was afraid. Rightly so, she thought. The chaos descending on the world was upending everyone’s cozy lives. And wasn’t that why they were all here now? Faithful and sinners alike, hoping that one mortal man could soothe away their fears?

In times of crisis, she supposed she couldn’t blame them for wanting to have someone save them. Although, personally she thought that perhaps the mob mentality was driving them to hysterics that were counterproductive. Everywhere she looked, everything she heard - it was the same. All these people gathered here, and no doubt around the world were letting themselves lose their grip on sanity. She paused behind another group, catching a glimpse of one of the Swiss Guard. She ducked a little lower to blend in more, she can’t afford to be caught right now.

“The world has gone mad - the city has barred me from leaving to see my family!”

“It’s for your own protection, we’re already packed full with refugees. If we open the gates again, then more will come in along with the demons.”

“Hmph, I’d say just let those who want to leave, leave. There’s too many people here and only so much food and necessities to go around. If you want to be stupid enough to get killed, it’s one less person for me to fight with for what I need to feed my family with.”

“Where’s your compassion?”

“Compassion is a luxury that we can’t afford in a crisis like this. Haven’t you been listening to the news? The demons creep closer and closer every hour. Even the Legendary Hunter in Red Grave has gone missing - soon there will be no one left to protect us. We may as well just look out for ourselves at this point.”

This overlap of demons and the ordinary lives of these citizens - these people weren’t equipped to survive in this harsh manner. Not like her. She pitied them in a distant sort of way, for being so afraid and for being unable to defend themselves. Even though she didn’t share the same faith as the ones crowding around her, she understood enough to see that they had to have something good to believe in. A flock of sheep was easier to herd and calm when they had a shepherd they could trust blindly. Otherwise they would cause their own brand of chaos and right now wasn’t a good time for the public to lose what little brain function they possessed.

_’Still, this place is like a ticking time bomb. One little thing could set off the crowd and there’d be no stopping this mob of scared people from rampaging over each other.’_ Shuddering at that thought, she hoped that the little rally would go smoothly. It would make her mission that much easier if nothing brought the Vatican Hunters any closer to the Holy City. Like hulking, vicious bulldogs, she thought to herself, catching one from the corner of her eyes. Slabs of muscle prowling in different corners of the square. Menacing scowls plastered on their faces, as if they smelled something awful. Eyes methodically scanning for any reason to wade in to beat control back into the crowd. There was a meanness in the way they conducted themselves - far too arrogant and entitled from knowing they had the backing of one of the most powerful organizations in the world.

She hated them. These Hunters were some of the worst in her opinion. Like overgrown bullies who only became more cruel and nastier with age. A hand clenched into a fist as she saw one roughly shove a woman and her child to the side, toppling them onto the cobbled street before demanding an apology from them. A quick furtive gaze told her she should be relatively safe with a little bit of mischievous retribution. Everyone seemed too preoccupied to notice her. 

____ bent down to quickly palm a small pebble. Holding in between her thumb and forefinger, she crept closer to the shouting Hunter. Trying to seem as innocuous as possible. A sharp flick with her thumb as she discreetly passed by; the pebble bouncing off his temples instead of into his ear like she originally aimed for. She stifled a snigger at the comical, scandalized expression on his face before he hopped around in place, looking for the culprit. Serves the ass right, she smirked faintly to herself. Watching him swivel back and forth in place stupidly.

“Who did that! Reveal yourself now and I may be merciful when deciding how long to lock you up!”

“Calm yourself Dupre, you are causing a scene.” Another tall, broad shouldered Hunter, dressed in the black frock of the priesthood, hissed to him.

Bastion only glared fiercely, eyes straining to find the one who dared humiliate him like this. A meaty hand on his shoulder squeezed hard, pulling him back from following a suspicious character swathed in a long cloak. “Unhand me Angelo.” He sneered, shrugging the other man’s hand off. “What does it matter to me what they think? These commoners are nothing but a nuisance. Why His Holiness insisted on a gathering is beyond me, but it’s apparent that there is no one worthy of a blessing among these vermin. And I for one, have better things to do than to waste my time and talents by providing security for these peasants.”

Angelo only frowned. “You keep forgetting your place brother. Your personal feelings do not matter when you work under the direction of the Holy See. What matters is the faith and protecting the faithful.” He chided, with all the sternness of a professor. “Anger is a sin and I expect you to confess and ask for penitence before the day is over. Now go back to your duties and we shall speak later.” He said dismissively.

Bastion sneered one last time before he sulkily crossed himself and grumbled an insincere apology to Angelo. Turning on his heel, he forced his way through the crowd. Rudely shoving everyone in his path to the side and snarling at any attempts to chastise him. Seething and chafing at the indignity of being regulated to just security detail when he knew he was much better suited as a personal bodyguard to His Holiness. If no one was in their right mind to recognize his obvious talent, then he will return the same favor and ignore his demeaning post. He was meant for much greater things and he refused to participate in tasks beneath him.

Trumpets and drums clashed horribly in his ears. A loud roar of cheers and approval rattled his bones as the mass stretched to the sky at the appearance of their Shepard. His Holiness. An elbow jabbed into his side and he caught sight of a small figure darting away from him. A faint derisive chuckle trailing after them. He snarled and stomped off in the same direction. Around him, the crowd bowed their heads and began to pray in unison. The deep throated brass church bells of the Vatican rang as he followed his prey closely.

The noise of the crowd faded to a low murmur as he tagged after them. Like a bloodhound, he knew instinctively that this would be no ordinary chase. Whoever this was, they were heading towards a side alley that led to a seldom patrolled part of the Holy City. _’An intruder?’_ He wondered, a gleeful smile twisting his lips. He squinted as he made sure to follow from a safe distance. This person looked rather familiar. He recalled that a month or so ago, that the Vatican had been infiltrated and its precious archives raided. Hastily concluded that this must be someone connected to the theft of so many precious artifacts. What was that adage? A criminal always returned to the scene of the crime. Bastion could not let this chance slip away. 

His back burned from the remembrance of his punishment. Unfortunately for him, the break in had happened right when he was on guard that night. Somehow, the thief (or thieves) slipped past him and to his humiliation, had snuck right back out without him noticing. This was his chance to redeem himself and earn his way back to his former respected position. 

“Little thief - back again so soon?” He growled, tugging the straps that held his battle axe free and swinging it down at them. “I will enjoy exacting my payment for the humiliation you’ve given me.”

The axe snagged the edge of their cloak and the billowing fabric slipped off to reveal...

_A woman._

Even worse, a female Hunter. 

_’Shameless slut.’_ His grip tightened as he stepped into a broad, heavy swing again, fury etched across his face. “What a disgrace.” He spat. “You are an abomination. A woman’s place is at home to tend to the husband, meals and children. How dare you take up arms as if you were a man?” 

____ was too surprised by the sudden appearance of this hulking behemoth to roll her eyes by his scandalized rant about her being a female Hunter. Acting on her battle instincts, she ducked and whirled out of the axe’s reach. Her hand touched the holster of her gun before curling back. She cursed her luck. The alley was a little too narrow for her guns. One missed shot and the bullet could ricochet into her instead.

So, she skidded under his spread legs, barely missing getting her head chopped clean off. Scrambling to her feet, she sprinted back out of the alley. Seizing her chance, she tugged loose the longsword of another Vatican Hunter with a choppy “Grazie!” and continued back towards the city without missing a beat. There were just too many people here for a proper fight, and the farther she could take him away the better. Not to mention, she was lighter and quicker. At some point, the heavyweighted, slab of muscle roaring behind her, should get tired from chasing after her and then she could teach him a lesson or two about a woman’s place with his guard down.

He thundered closer. Calling her all sorts of misogynistic names. 

This time she did roll her eyes as he shouted after her. 

“Hold still and accept your punishment!”

She sidestepped, narrowly missing the flat of the axe to her skull. He roared in fury and stomped after her again.

“Fuck, don’t you know when to give up?” She panted, swinging the pilfered longsword to parry the giant battle axe whistling down on her. A smirk crossed her lips at his incredulous expression when she easily held him at bay. Her arms barely trembled as she pushed him off. Blade whirling as she twisted, she sliced a hot line of agony across his ribs and once more on his forearm. ____ fought and exterminated demons for a living. This enemy was just a human and not anywhere in the same league as a demon. _’Albeit this guy is a really strong human that could crush me to a pulp given the chance.’_ She quipped inappropriately to herself, throwing herself out the way of what looked like a nasty right hook. 

He snarled a toothy grin, pulling back and swinging his weapon sideways to chop in across instead. She ducked into a crouch and swept her legs out, aiming to kick behind his knees to upset his balance. He staggered back, trying to steady his bulky frame. Giving her enough time to roll back to her feet to dig in her pocket for a flashbang. Her fingers curled on one as she turned around to start retreating again. This man was strong and hefty, the only way she could plan on beating him would be to tire him out as much as she could.

Tossing the flashbang over her shoulder, she wasted no time turning round a corner to climb up to the nearest rooftop. Sprinting into a high jump to reach an emergency escape ladder and grinning at the way the Vatican Hunter cursed virulently with his god’s name. “Tsk. Saying the lord’s name in vain like that. And on a holy day no less. I bet that’s going to cost you.” She couldn’t resist taunting.

“Coward! Come back you thieving heathen! You wretched whore!”

She scrambled up rusting ladders and scaled up as high as she could. Right now, she needed to escape rather than try to blend in. And she was beginning to doubt her ability to lose him in the streets he was more familiar with. So up it was.

It was too convenient. The way the roofs were flat and the way the buildings stacked so closely that all it took was a well timed jump to hop her way across several blocks. She continued to evade him in this manner until she finally skidded to a stop at the slanting tin roof of a warehouse. Pausing a bit to catch her breath. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the Hunter barreling towards her again.

“I will rip you to pieces, protocol be damned! I will not let you humiliate me again!”

“Geez, calm down. I’m pretty sure all that roid’ rage is bad for you. You’re going to give yourself a stroke there buddy.” She mocked in a light tone as she backed up a little. Eyes darted around; she made note of a half full can of motor oil a few feet away. It smelled positively rancid from where she stood. “Plus, I’m pretty sure, anger is a sin in your books. Aren’t you guys supposed to be all about the ‘love thy neighbor’ and all that shit? What’s with the violence, I didn’t do anything wrong.” She added innocently.

He wasn’t amused. “Submit yourself to the divine punishment of the Vatican you heathen. You have been judged as a criminal and for your offenses, I will take your head.” He growled. Itching to throttle this insolent woman with his bare hands. This woman was making a fool out of him. And he couldn’t let that stand. 

She parried again but noticed the minute cracking in the blade already. She tsk’d. The Vatican Hunters were such cheapskates. The blade managed to withstand one more parry before she had to abandon the weapon as it shattered on her. ____ pulled her gun, but Bastion quickly knocked her with a well aimed slap to her firing arm, sending it skidding out of reach. Without any other viable weapon, she fell back to her old habits. Hands curled into fists and held defensively up in front of her face and upper torso. Ducking the axe swinging determinately at her, she sidestepped him and jabbed him twice in the general area of his kidneys. 

It was such a familiar dance, she thought to herself. As natural as breathing. Hunching low to dodge a meaty fist here. Countering with an uppercut to the underside of his chin now. Wincing when she felt a sharp jolt of pain firing up from her knuckles to the metacarpals that made up her palm. _‘Boxers fracture?’_ She assessed absentmindedly.

The hulking frame could have been anyone from her past. The raw power and the malicious intent to beat her to a bloody pulp was all the same, no matter what ugly opponent she fought. 

A fist smashed into her temple. Stars burst white and bloody behind her eyes. She staggered back, blood dripping steadily into her right eye, clouding her vision. Another hard clip to her head sent her tumbling into the concrete, skidding like a ragdoll towards the container of rancid oil. Grasping it instinctively, she splashed it into his face. Taking advantage of the confusion as he blundered about, to stumble onto another rooftop to retreat and regather her senses.

She wiped at the blood furiously from her face. Breathing raggedly as she fought the vertigo and nausea from her head injuries. The outcome of this fight suddenly looked bad. Oh boy - she needed to find something to deter him from finishing her off and fast. But what?

There were lines of laundry and broken ceramic tiles on one roof. The next one after that had nothing of use. She fought the urge to glance back when she heard Bastion howl in irritation at having to pursue her yet again. Instead she scanned around and noticed a thick cable off to the side.

“I will make you regret crossing me - you will taste the full wrath of the Vatican. And I will relish every moment punishing you as the whore you are. How does burning at the stake sound?”

She grimaced at the unoriginal threats as she pulled her leather belt off and doubled it over. “I think you need to go back and learn some new insults. I’m starting to get bored trying to count how many ways you can throw in the word whore in your sentences.” ____ darted towards the cable. _’I hope this kinda works cause I got nothing else right now.’_ She prayed as she looped the belt over the cable. Bravely - or perhaps foolishly- Kicking off the ledge, her makeshift zip line miraculously took her down to the lower levels of roofs. Her feet clattered on the tiled roof as she landed heavily.

She wished she still had that longsword so she could cut the cable. Hell, she wished she still had her gun or another flashbang, anything to slow him down. But the disorientation spinning her head, made her misjudge the distance between herself and the Vatican dog as she took too long to move again. The breath was knocked from her as he crashed feet first into her side. Sending her flying into the brick wall of the adjacent building.

“Now I’ve got you.” He growled menacingly. No more chasing after this abomination. This woman who masqueraded as a warrior. “Disgraceful and unseemly”, he spat at her in disgust. “Unnatural.”

This woman was a crime against the natural order. Women were made to serve men, and for this defective one to take up arms and defy her betters made him see red. He lifted her by her hair, meaty fist yanking it harshly. Her nails scratched bloody lines across his arms and hands. Her bloodied lips pulled back into a primitive snarl. His breathing labored and he felt the unwelcome stirrings of violent lust. The primal need to subjugate this aberration clashed with his will to not be tempted by this witch.

He slammed a fist into her again. “How dare you try to rouse such sinful thoughts in me? I am a holy warrior. And you are nothing but mud and an afterthought of the Lord.” He hissed.

She spat her blood into his face. She had no words for this misogynistic idiot. She twisted, and being flexible enough, kicked up a leg into the soft underside of his chin. Smirking when she saw blood dribble down his chin. Hopefully he bit his tongue off, she thought nastily. She clapped at his head, the heels of her palms catching his temples jarringly. Sending a jolt of pain that made his ears ring.

He howled and stumbled back a few steps. Hands clutching his head as an annoying whine filled his ears. Hazel eyes glared hatefully at her from a mess of blood, dirt and blond hair. Lips, broken and bleeding from her earlier punches, sneered at her.

Oops. Looks like she only made him angrier. She cursed his endurance- shouldn’t he be knocked out already? She was losing strength and her consciousness was blurring. She bent her leg, intending to finish this with a good kick to the face. ‘Breaking his nose in should do the trick. At the very least, he should be in too much pain to keep chasing me’, she assessed.

He grabbed hold of her ankle and tossed her into a random corner. “I am growing very tired of your games. Forget the stake, I will end you here and now and send you back to hell where you belong.”

She tried to roll out the way. A swift crunch of his boot over her stomach made her retch and thrash weakly. She blinked rapidly at the sight of him looming over her and felt the trickles of apprehension settle coldly over her. 

A flapping from above the towering hulk caught her attention. _‘Am I hallucinating? I swear that looks like a bird... A really blue and weird looking bird...’_ Her eyes squeezed shut at the sudden flare of brightness that assaulted her. There were screams of pain. The smell of burning ozone and flesh and fabric filled her nose and made her dry heave. Then, booted feet thundered rapidly away in the distance.

She lay there for a few moments, breathing raggedly. Trying to make sense of what just happened. _’Did he just run off?’_ Something sharp pecked at her uninjured hand. She cracked an eye open and couldn’t help the delirious chuckle that slipped from her bleeding lips.

“Hey birdie. I recognize you. Fancy meeting you here. Are you the one that’s been spying on me for that pervert master of yours this whole time?” She grimaced as pain shot up her head. Blooming fire and needles licked all through her nerves. Pure agony. Maybe she had a concussion. The demon pecked at her hand again and trilled at her irritatingly. She got the impression that it was trying to keep her awake. 

“Geez enough of that from you.” She swatted clumsily at the avian demon but it simply just hopped out of the way. Disapproval clear in its expression. “Your master better haul ass then if he doesn’t want me to die. Cause I’m pretty sure besides this concussion, I’ve got a few more other issues to worry about.”

An arm wrapped around her middle and she couldn’t help it. She yawned. An abnormal fatigue tugged at her consciousness. A hazy, wooly feeling clouded her thoughts. Despite the familiar squawking at her, her eyes drifted closed. ____ thought she imagined the presence of chilled hands on her and a voice murmuring garbled words over her.

This felt so familiar.

_’It’s just like old times.’_

\---------------Flashback------------------

____ tried to crack open her swollen eyes. Then immediately winced when the bright, fluorescent lights seared her retinas. That was painful. Even more than the throbbing ache that bloomed all over her battered body.

“You look like shit.” A light voice murmured from above her. Cool hands patted her forehead, lightly slapping her back to awareness. “Stay awake now. I didn’t buy you, just for you to die on me.”

____ heard the voice - decidedly sultry and feminine - call out for bodyguards to come and help get her on her feet. She chanced another attempt to open her eyes. And wasn’t at all surprised when it registered her in pain addled mind, who exactly was tending to her injuries.

“Well, Greyson’s whore. Nice to see you again.” She quipped through bloodied lips.

“Call me a whore one more time and I will let you bleed out on the floor. I am a courtesan. How many times do I have to tell you that?” She sniffed in derision.

“Whore. Courtesan. Same thing. One’s just a prettier word to say and the other just has too many syllables.”

“You are hopeless.” The woman sneered. Although it lacked any real type of hostility. “You’re lucky that I am still invested in you despite your rudeness.” She gestured for one of her guards to carry ____ to her private rooms. And promptly dismissed them afterwards with strict instructions to let no one disturb them.

“Fancy place you got here, C.” ____ wrapped an arm over her sides, trying hard to put enough pressure on what she was sure was a few bruised ribs, so she could breathe a little easier. “Guess you did move up in the escort world huh? Must be nice to have a sugar daddy.”

Cecilia’s swept over ____, mentally cataloguing the injuries and their degree of severity, while ticking off a checklist of what she could do in terms of first aid. “I suppose you’ve improved your situation a bit as well. You actually managed to win your cage match this time without making too much of a mess of yourself. Unlike the first time, when I saw you and you were laying on the floor nearly dead.”

“Hey, the ice princess noticed me back then? I’m so flattered.” ____ flinched hard when Cecilia jabbed a manicured nail into one of her many scrapes. 

“Although it seems your maturity has stunted after all these years. I suppose it can’t be helped, not when what little sense you did have is repeatedly beaten out of you every night.”

“Eh, a living is a living. You should try it one day, you might like it. You look like you’d get off on violence anyways.”

“Can’t you be serious for once?”

____ only grinned faintly, recognizing the stern tone that indicated the woman was getting fed up with her antics. Probably a good time to start behaving a little bit for now. After all, without Cecilia’s routine care of healing her after every cage match, ____ would not have made it to see her 14th birthday today. The young fighter kept still as Cecilia fussed over her injuries. 

“You need to take better care of your personal appearance. It’s a woman’s greatest weapon.”

“I’m pretty sure a good poke to the eyes or a hard kick to the balls is just as effective.”

The two shared a self deprecating smile, brittle but genuine. They were both survivors, kindred spirits. Both using their body the best way they knew how to make it through to see another day.

“I’ve got some news for you shortcake.” Cecilia murmured softly, her luxurious hair falling in curtains around her shoulders as she bent over slightly. Using the nickname to get her friend’s full attention. “You and me...we’re leaving tonight. You ready for the biggest fight of your career?”

“Bring it.”

\---------------End Flashback------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe sweetlings.
> 
> Until Next Time~


	25. Of Suspicion and Supplication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into how the attempts at clearing your name are going. V is up to something, but that's not new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello sweetlings, it has been an exhausting month. But stay strong - those of you working on the front lines like me or staying home, or out volunteering - we can do this! 
> 
> Now, let's get back to the story~

### Of Suspicion and Supplication

\----------------------------------Enamel City - Flash Point--------------------------

“Fashionably late I see. Glad to see you could make it today, I was wondering if you were going to leave me high and dry here.” Elena snapped off the cap to her beer bottle.

“Good to know you have such a high opinion of me. Especially since, I’m the one who called to arrange this meeting after all.” Cecilia drawled, crossing her legs and artfully projecting an air of indolence. “Besides, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Her lips curled into a faint sneer.

Twin gazes of professional disdain clashed. Of course, there were no personal feelings involved in their sniping. They were _professionals_ after all.

Billy kept a watchful eye on the two female Hunters sitting casually at the corner table. Efficiently cleaning his bartop and organizing his glasses from his position behind the bar. To anyone else unaware of their reputations, they seemed to be on pretty friendly terms. Two friends, chatting away and sharing drinks after a long day’s hard work. Smiling and listening attentively and exchanging what seemed, on the surface, just affectionate barbs. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But Billy knew better than to be lulled into a false sense of security by this amicable display. The sixth sense he’s honed over the years screamed at him to keep alert for imminent danger. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled, at the very instant they sat down together. It was a rare sight for these two to even be seen in public together, much less conversing ‘politely’. No doubt this meeting had to do with their missing mediator, ____. Though, if it came down to it, Billy was ready to use the stun bombs he keeps nearby, at them to keep his bar from being wrecked. The trio of Hunters were _still_ paying off the damages from what they explained was a minor dispute between Elena and Cecilia from two years ago.

“Did you finally get around to what I asked for?” Cecilia’s lips pulled easily into a practiced smile, the one she generally used for her marks. “You know the more time that goes by, the more hot water for our mutual friend to clean up when she comes back.”

Elena’s left eye twitched in irritation but she slid a card over to Cecilia. “Here’s the keycard to get you past the department red tape. Wouldn’t want that pretty face to be fried by the privacy wards we set up around the crime scene, would we?” A false, too bright smile flashed on her lips.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about me.” Cecilia responded a little too coyly, “After all, I am a professional and a veteran, not like the run of the mill Hunters who just hopped on the bandwagon with no training. I’m not prone to making rookie mistakes anymore.” Cecilia took a delicate sip from her wine glass, eyes slanting over the rim with a look of superiority, “Who knows, I might even end up solving the case for you.” She added, voice dripping with venomous sweetness. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Elena and Cecilia traded barbed and dagger sharp smiles. Each one sizing the other up with a predator’s eye. Searching and prodding for any weaknesses to catalogue and exploit later. The intensity of their scrutiny made the other patrons around them shift nervously in their seats. A few of the more sober ones even went as far as to change tables further away. Sensing the charged atmosphere of dislike brewing between them.

“So you’re a detective now, as well as a Hunter? Color me surprised, I figured you were just trying to look busy while doing as little work as possible. Not that I’m complaining, it keeps you from getting in the way of the _real_ professionals.” Elena smirked at the flash of irritation in the older woman as she gulped a large mouthful from her bottle. “Besides, my team has already gone over the crime scene with a fine tooth comb, you’re not going to find anything new that we already don’t know about.”

“That’s the issue I find with a lot of newly minted rookies, whether they’re playing at a Hunter or Detective, is that they always overestimate themselves. After all, it’s been what…” Cecilia tapped her plump bottom lip thoughtfully, “Over a week now? And despite the fact that you’ve stepped into your dear brother’s shoes, you haven’t found anything useful yet? Goodness, what have you been doing all this time...If you don’t pick up the pace soon, people are going to talk more than they already are now.” 

Cecilia tittered airily, elegantly swirling her wine glass. She took a delicate sip, letting the tannins of the wine sting her tongue with their astringency. Notes of chocolates and cherries floated to her nose as she inhaled in the aerated brew. Not quite the finest vintage, but still a much more preferable drink than the cheap beer her immature ‘partner’ chose to drink. Honestly, this girl had no sense of class did she? At least even ____’s taste for bourbon was a bit more refined than beer.

“Running the Homicide division takes a lot of hard work. Something I’m sure you might have a little trouble understanding given that things are usually handled by more qualified people other than yourself.” Elena quipped coolly, making a show to check her phone to emphasize her feigned disinterest.

The tall brunette laughed mirthlessly, “There is a difference between being smart enough to know when to stop before you’ve bit off more than you can chew versus being pig headed and going into something you’re not ready for. But I suppose, you’re a little too much like your brother in that sense, hmm? Trying to play with the big boys and girls and making more of a mess instead?”

Elena fisted a hand in her lap, but her own false smile never wavered. “Ooh, tough words. Who taught you that? It can’t be ____. She always liked getting her hands dirty when she’s working, even when the odds are stacked against her. Being the underdog never seemed to bother her.” She twirled a finger obnoxiously around a lock of hair, smirking at the way the older woman narrowed her eyes at the insinuation.

They both drank in silence for a little longer. Dropping back to feigning small talk and retracting their claws for now.

“Well little Elena.” Cecilia bared her teeth fully as she smiled too brightly again, having reached her limit in pretending to play nice with the bratty rookie. Drawing out her name mockingly. “You’ve got big shoes to fill since poor Henry is out of the picture. I hope you can manage to last more than a few weeks in the job. There seems to be a nasty trend of replacing Homicide detectives lately.” She double checked the keycard and slipped it into a pocket as she stood up. “As you said, you’re quite busy aren’t you? I’ll keep in touch.” She waggled her fingers and left the bar. Making sure to pointedly leave the other Hunter with the bill. “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

She strode through the exit, long, slim legs hurrying her out of sight. She breathed out harshly, trying to ignore the distaste of having to even be seen in public with Elena. Irritation sizzled in her blood at having to even stoop to working with the vulgar child that latched onto her childhood companion with too much hero worship. Cecilia tsk’d under her breath. Muttered darkly about ____’s poor habit of taking in strays. One day, that was going to bring her unnecessary trouble, mark her words. Her friend was always so soft hearted. And someone was bound to take advantage of that since she was such a nosy trouble magnet. 

Once she was a safe enough distance away, she slowed to a thoughtful walk. Brows furrowed deeply. For the umpteenth time, she checked her phone for any new messages only to be frustrated when there was none. She stopped and ran an agitated hand through her hair. Reminding herself that there was nothing to be too concerned about ____’s whereabouts and her continued silence. Her friend was more than capable of taking care of herself and had always been smart enough to know when to find help to get the job done.

But time was ticking relentlessly. Cecilia needed ____ to respond to her. If only to just ease the worry eating away at her.

_’God damn it, send me something soon!’_

Her feet took her down a familiar turn and Cecilia gazed up at the run down apartment building. She huffed in derision to herself as she eyed the molding building with disgust. No matter how many times she’s tried to get ____ to move to somewhere better, her friend still insisted this was the perfect home. _’Always settling for subpar and never trying to move on. You think after all these years, she’d find a taste for the finer things in life besides bourbon.’_

Some things just never change. Cheapskate, she thought fondly to herself as she took in a deep breath, pushed away her concerns and annoyance, and stepped inside to stalk up the grueling flights of stairs. A hand patted the card in her pocket, reinforcing her decision to check out the crime scene for herself. She wouldn’t trust Elena to have done the investigation properly. Oh the little chit might be useful here and there, but she was too new to this line of work. The rookie had the same finesse as a bull in a chinashop. Cecilia was already grimacing at just how much the brat might have mucked up already.

Besides, a second opinion never hurt anyone.

The keycard pulsed and flared a soft green as she approached the threshold into ____’s taped off apartment. An uncomfortable prickle needled at her as she twisted the doorknob. Her nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of the herbs used to draw the privacy wards around the crime scene. Too much in terms of oppressive floral notes and the undercurrent of copper made her stomach roil. Cloyingly bitter was the best she could describe it as she tasted alder root and burnt sage on her tongue.

_’Disgusting.’_ She tried to keep her breaths shallow as she stepped in. Suspicion and alarm sparked in her brain. There was no sign of any of the other privacy wards she had been expecting. _’This isn’t protocol. There should have been more than just a simple ward for a crime scene like this. Especially given who the victim was...’_ Cecilia frowned as she unhurriedly combed through the living room. Inch by excruciating inch. Grateful for the years spent training herself to see things that normally would be missed. She crouched down by the dried splatters of blood where Henry had been found.

The medical reports she had gotten from the hospital (without permission of course) stated that Henry had been shot once. But the amount of bullets scattered around the blood stains certainly seemed to argue otherwise. She reached into a pocket and pulled on a lint free glove. Fingers carefully picked up a bullet shell casing. 

Her frown turned into a hard scowl. _’This is definitely fishy.’_

Still full of gunpowder.

As were the other three bullets scattered around the blood stains. Not a single one emptied. In fact, a quick sweep around and she couldn’t find a single empty casing.

_’None of these were discharged from a gun..Who in the hell would go out of their way to scatter bullets still full of gunpowder? Am I looking at the work of an amateur trying to throw people off their tracks? Or...am I dealing with someone who knew exactly what they were doing?’_

Wanting to confirm her growing suspicions, she straightened up to inspect the pile of ammunition boxes on the counter. Laying blatantly, apart from the neatly stacked pile, was a box missing exactly four bullets. Bullets that matched the ones at the marked crime scene.

_’The crime scene doesn’t quite feel right at all. What am I missing from here?’_ She was careful to place the ammo box back on the counter, exactly the way she found it. Heart hammering in her chest. Feeling warm in a way that had nothing to do with the wine she drank earlier.

The con artist knew something had been tampered here. Her mind traced back the events from the reports she had been given by the interim head of Homicide. Henry had been investigating the rather gruesome death of a minor noble and happened to stumble upon the remains of Hart. Given that the deceased detective had been on a bloodhunt with ____, it was only a natural assumption to go and investigate her as the most likely suspect.

Which led him directly here, to an apartment that had an assassin that lay in wait.

_’Coincidence? I think not.’_

\---------------------------------With You and V--------------------------

“...ow.” _Fuck, I can’t say I miss being beaten into a pulp like that. The next time I see that asshole, I’m going to return the favor with plenty of interest.’_ ____ rolled over to her side carefully, wincing with every breath that straggled into her lungs. She felt like one giant mass of bruises and aches. She huffed. Well, all things considered, she was still alive for what it was worth. Whether or not that was a good thing remained up for debate.

As her thoughts slowly became more coherent, she absentmindedly rubbed her palm at the bedsheets. Silk slipped beneath her fingers. The fabric was smooth and cool against her calloused skin. It felt nice - but when did she have silk sheets? She shook her head, and kept her eyes closed, feeling a new wave of vertigo that distracted her from further investigation of her surroundings. 

Her brain itched. She was missing something important. Something obvious.

Her thoughts backtracked a bit as she tried to recall exactly how she made it out of her encounter with the Vatican Hunter alive. She definitely remembered the pain. And the cold fear that turned her blood to sludge when she realized she was about to die...Her brows furrowed in deep concentration. She remembered...she remembered...damn it, what exactly was she forgetting?

“Ah, finally awake, are you?” 

She cracked her eyes open. Then groaned internally at the increasingly familiar sight of her deranged devil summoner. Now it was coming back to her. She had taken an incredibly nasty beating. One that sent her on a merry trip down memory lane along with a concussion. ____ flexed her hand, finding it strange that she wasn’t as injured as she should have been. Even her boxer’s fracture was nothing more than a slight twinge of discomfort. Her slow and stuttering memory supplied one more important detail. The niggling annoyance that she had been forgetting something important made it, finally, obviously clear. And no amount of wishful thinking was going to change that. 

She remembered telling the avian demon to get his master to come and save her...in a moment she was firmly calling temporary insanity. _’Well...this is...gonna be interesting.’_ This was a rather novel experience if she had to admit. Waking up to see V sticking around for once. She did kind of expect for him to disappear before she woke up as he seemed prone to do. What was different now? 

____ slanted him a wary look. It was a testament to how much she’s become accustomed to him, that the sight of him lounging in a plush armchair as he elegantly sipped from a cup of coffee didn’t phase her as much as it would have before. Instead, she was feeling relief to have been rescued and patched up; and apprehensive of what he was going to demand as payment for coming to her rescue. V wasn’t quite the epitome of a knight in shining armor. And she was definitely sure, he didn’t save her out of good intentions.

Dark green eyes gleamed in amusement as they fixated on her. His eyes swept pointedly over her once before capturing her gaze again. A brow quirked up in silent question. He rumbled in amusement at the way she gaped at him, as if she couldn’t figure out what to do with him. “It’s quite rude to stare. Or, are you perhaps just enjoying the view?” He lifted the cup to his lips and smirked over the rim, “I certainly am.” He purred, greedily raking his eyes over her, more leisurely this time.

She gingerly sat up, making sure to pull the sheets close around herself. Feeling a little bit too vulnerable and too exposed for her liking. Even though the pervert had left her in her clothes this time around, his intensity as he watched her hungrily made her feel as if there could never be enough layers on her. 

_’How precious.’_ His lips twisted upwards. If his lamb looked any more skittish, V would find himself hard pressed to remember exactly why he stuck around for her to wake up. He clenched his teeth into a sharp smile and willed himself to reign in his desires for the time being. Although the sight of his lamb, again in his bed, made for quite a lovely distraction. So very tempting as she sat, with her wide, suspicious doe eyes watching him carefully. It made his blood quicken down south.

V set his empty cup aside and idly rolled his cane in his hands, emerald eyes piercing into her. Never once breaking eye contact. His brows scrunched slightly in thought as he surveyed the still healing damages his lamb sustained. _Extensive_ damages that drained his magical reserves considerably to heal. A sinister flash of anger darkened his eyes briefly before he smoothed his expression.

“I really should break this habit of yours of attracting trouble. It’s becoming quite inconvenient.”

Privately ____ couldn’t agree more. Although she was counting V as being part of that inconvenience too. She glowered, “Well, it’s kinda of a bummer for you then, isn’t it, with me being a trouble magnet? Since trouble comes with my job, we’re a two for one deal.”

He chuckled. “Ah, is that so? And trouble always comes in the form of you being nearly beaten to death? My, my - if this is part of your job, then I question the validity of you being in such a career. I do so hate to have my belongings damaged beyond repair simply because they were outclassed by their enemies.”

“Are you questioning my own ability to do my job?” She asked incredulously, bristling defensively. This man was really pushing her buttons the wrong way. It was one thing to poke fun at her ability to attract trouble but she took her combat skills seriously. It was one of the few things she was fiercely proud of. And the insinuation that she was a poor Hunter chafed her nonexistent patience. “I’ve been surviving just fine, although I’ll be more than happy to give you a hands on demonstration of my skills.”

His eyes glittered maliciously, “And yet here you are. Need I remind you that you called for _me_? That despite your assertion that you can handle yourself, you still requested for my familiar to bring me to you. To save you.” His voice was soft and triumphant as he considered her speculatively. “How flattering, you’ve grown dependent on me.” V concluded silkily.

It stung her pride. To be reminded, that in a moment of delirium and extreme blood loss - that she did, in fact, call for V to rescue her. That she had no one else reliable enough to reach out to at that time. And that was a frightening realization, in of itself. How quickly V became someone she depended on. _How quickly V became such a prominent fixture that he was the first person she thought of._ But she supposed, hastily, grasping at straws to rationalize this thought...As he said, he hated for her to be broken by anyone else. It made enough sense then, didn’t it? For her to call on him? At the very least, she could reasonably rely on him to be a possessive bastard. One that was somewhat willing to pull her out of the hot water she landed in.

Still...he didn’t have to be so damned smug about it. “Don’t get too used to it.” She muttered sulkily. “That was a one time fluke. I’ll handle my own missions from now on without your help.”

“Truly?” He asked, amused. “By all means please enlighten me on how you plan to accomplish that. I assume your little mishap with the Vatican Hunter and your near death experience was all part of a grand plan?”

____ stayed stubbornly silent. 

Long legs crossed. V rested his chin on a fist, a lazy half smirk stretching across his lips. Emerald eyes glittered in smug satisfaction as they bore hotly into hers. “Such telling silence, sweet thing. My lamb has found herself in over her head with more than she can handle. Dear oh dear.” He tsk’d mockingly. His tone light and playful...and deceptive. Inside, he was seething at her obstinacy. Was positively enraged that she was trying to shrug off her obvious need for his assistance. Oh no, he couldn’t have his lamb play in denial for much longer. She will acknowledge that he was now a very large part of her life, whether she wanted to or not. “Whatever shall I do with you, my errant pet? Since it appears that you are incapable of managing your own affairs.” He hummed, smirking wickedly. “Whatever, indeed. The possibilities are limitless.”

She fisted her hands at her side at the faint mocking bite of his voice. “Maybe minding your own business might be a good start?” She snarked petulantly, unable to fully reign in her knee jerk reaction to needle him with her disrespect.

“Take care sweet thing, I am feeling generous now but there is a limit to your rudeness that I am willing to tolerate.” 

The warning growl made her swallow her words. Self preservation kicking in just barely in time. Given her current state, it was a bit smarter to just be a little more careful. She wasn’t in that much of a hurry to see the return of his more violent, deranged side.

“So little lamb, mind telling me exactly how you ended up in such a state? I am...quite displeased at the sight Griffon brought me to.” That was an understatement. V was beyond furious. His lamb had yet again, put herself right at Death’s doorstep without his permission. He had many uses and plans left for his lamb and the thought that he might have had to terminate them prematurely rankled him deeply.

“A mission.” She replied tersely.

“Surely you can explain better than that.”

____ paused and gauged him silently. V looked far too eager in probing how her mission went wrong. Despite the way the man played it cool and collected, she had gotten used to a few of his tells to figure out that V was not just unhappy at having to rescue her. He was downright furious. _’Here,’_ the most pragmatic and ruthless part of her plotted, _’Is my chance...might be my only one to get help in getting out of this shitshow of a mission out in one piece. And possibly start paying back all my blood debts.’_

“What do you know about the Network and the Vatican and what they’re up to lately?” She prodded cagily.

A flash of sharp teeth. “You need to be more specific sweet thing. I know many things, but none of it may be relevant to you.”

She gritted her teeth. This man was really getting on her nerves. “I’m just wondering if you might know something that I don’t. Considering…” She hesitated, trying to bite out the words as politely as she was capable of, “...You’re a bit more informed than I am at the moment, I figured it can’t hurt to ask.” 

“Why? Are you perhaps asking for my assistance?” He asked coyly. V only watched her through his lashes at the way she bristled in annoyance at his deliberate obtuseness. He wanted her to come out and say it. Beg for it. His sweet lamb was always so precious when she begged.

_’...I really want to strangle him right now.’_ She deliberated and carefully considered everything she knew up to this point. Wondering exactly how much to reveal to whet his interest while keeping the more important details to herself. She already learned the hard way that to give V an inch, he would gleefully take hundreds of miles with it. And drag her along kicking and screaming too, while he was at it.

The silence hung heavily between them, with V watching expectantly as ____ weighed her options. The mission had been set up for failure from the beginning, she was seeing that now. Especially since her specialty was extermination, sending her on an espionage mission was idiocy on their part and suicidal for her. She rather liked being alive more than anything and if that meant having to go swallow her pride and ask this deranged man for his help, she was ruthlessly selfish enough to do it. Although she didn’t have to be a hundred percent happy with the choice to do what was necessary to survive.

But, her burning curiosity at the motives behind the Network ate at her. The niggling suspicions growing each day about her employer made it hard for her to want to back off now. Something was brewing in the background and she was determined to ferret it out. And then she was going to beat the ever loving shit out of the asshole who was trying to get her killed. Besides. Logically having V guard her while she investigated would be helpful. Logically, V had more resources at his disposal than she did. With her being essentially locked out of Enamel, those resources would go a long way in helping her crack this newest headache that’s fallen in to upset her routine. But logic didn’t quite equate to the sanest option when V was involved. 

_’I’m already regretting this…’_ The words soured on her tongue. “Yes V, I’m asking for your help.” She growled, forcing herself to spit out her ‘request’ before she changed her mind. “Please.” She quickly added at his expectant look. God, this man was insufferable!

He simply smiled coolly, his expression twisting into one of pure male satisfaction and victory as he made her wait on his response. Amused by how she vibrated with uncertainty. Delighting in the way her poorly controlled impatience and wariness gnawed at her as he took his sweet time in agonizing her. Everything was to be on his time, at his demands. And having his lamb squirming in his bed as he deliberated on her reluctant request for his help? **Heady**. The control he had over her went straight to the stiffening cock in his slacks. Fabric already straining to keep the beast contained.

“But of course, I won’t deny my sweet lamb. Since you asked so nicely.” He purrs at last. “After all, I am sure,” He slyly twists the words, “ That I will be more than well compensated for my time. I’m sure you’ll come up with something, hmm?”

She doesn’t like that one bit. Completely unsettled. Suspicions heightened by the way he leered at her. This man’s cornered her once again. Always leaving her with no choice but to accept his terms; no matter how distasteful she found it. Fingers twisted the luxurious sheets, feeling the slippery fabric glide across her heated skin. She unstuck her tongue and fought hard to not growl out, “And exactly what do you want?”

Such a sweet thing, V mused, having caught the brief flash of desire when she realized exactly what he wanted. So sweet...and so very much in denial still. He’d have to rectify that. And what better time than now, to start conditioning his little lamb into accepting the role he’s slotted her into?

Placing his cane on the table besides him, V unfolded his lean body. Prowled sensuously over to the bed. Bending to her eye level with that all too sensual, and faintly sinister, smirk curling his lips expectantly. Elegant fingers lightly flicked under her chin. “Oh you sweet thing.” He trailed his fingertips along the curve of her jaw, thumb grazing her lower lip. Feather light touches brushed down her throat to her shoulders. Darkened emerald eyes boring covetously into her. “How about you show me a little...demonstration of your _gratitude_ for my assistance?”

The suggestive lilt in his voice made her toes curl. Made her belly warm and tighten in that familiar need. She cursed at the way she kept losing control over her own hormones. She didn’t need this right now, and really didn’t want to sit there and contemplate the unsettling truth of how easily the man got under her skin. ____ closed her eyes and tried to bottle the urge to toss him out the window of his very expensive suite. Repeated her mantra that she really needed his help whether she liked it or not.

Wasn’t his lamb so precious in her hesitation? V’s smile glittered like a knife as he watched her struggle internally. Her turmoil fueled his malicious glee; relishing the fact that no matter how hard she fought against it, the outcome of her resistance would only come to one and one conclusion.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted. And if she had the will to pull herself out of denial, it was also obvious what she wanted as well. Slowly, gingerly and mindful of the aches and pains that lingered; she rose to her knees. The position put her nearly eye level with that expectant emerald gaze. His eyes were hooded and darkened in anticipation as he watched her from beneath his lashes.

She swallowed thickly, nervously. Heart thundering in her ears, throbbing in her throat; she fought to hold onto her courage while it still lasted. Her hands visibly trembled as she reached to brace them on his shoulders as she pulled herself to him. There was no choice, she told herself. Deliberately ignoring the little voice that whispered, _liar, liar_. He was cool to her touch, or maybe she was running a fever? She felt far, far too warm all of a sudden. And incredibly uncomfortable with the intensity of his undivided attention.

Thankfully V kept his comments to himself. Help be damned, one more smart comment from him and she’ll just shoot him and just deal with consequences from failing her mission assigned by the Network.

Resigned, she closed her eyes and leaned in to lightly press her lips to his. Just the barest of touch. Almost shyly curling her arms loosely around his neck. She felt the plush lips turning up into a smug grin. Felt him mouth “Go on sweet thing, don’t keep me waiting for too long.” Hesitantly, she moved her lips, letting her tongue swipe his bottom lip, reminiscent of the way he did to her.

It was...slow. Deceptively gentle as he coaxed her into a little more. His hand crept to cradle the back of her head, long fingers twining in her hair and he pressed her closer. Taking complete control and devouring her like a starved beast. His tongue plundering every crevice and twining with hers as he crushed her to him. Sweeping to claim her fully. A tiny moan, a soft whimper from her as she immediately yielded to him. 

He growled in approval against her, fingers latching onto her hips, making sure to dig his nails in hard enough to leave bruises. Just the hot lust flaring in his belly at her initiating contact with him made his control nearly snap. It was a monumental effort for him to pull back. He’s already proven his point for now. And it would do no good to accidentally break his lamb while she was still healing because he couldn’t restrain himself. There will be plenty of time later to indulge himself fully.

He approved of the fact that his lamb was coming to accept her role beautifully. That headiness again, making him lightheaded and giddy. There was no resistance to his attentions as he pressed her back into the bed. Only complete and utter capitulation. The glazed expression on her face as he pulled back curled his lips into a pleased smirk. “Hmm, that will do for now. We have other business to attend to, you and I.” He cut off whatever she might have said with another scorching kiss. “Business that requires you to be at optimal health. That means rest and if I have to force you under, I will.”

She flashed him a look of suspicion, warily watching as he returned back to his seat and his books. He reached for one of the tomes stacked on the table by him, seemingly losing all interest in riling her for the time being. Carefully, she eased into a more comfortable position, keeping one eye cracked open. She still ached and there was just enough jolts of pain stinging up her nerves that made her reluctantly acknowledge that maybe V had a point about her recovering. But she’ll still keep half awake, just in case, she told herself. Before she knew it, her eyes fluttered closed as she drifted back to sleep, lulled by the sounds of pages slowly turning. The sweet lamb falling asleep in the presence of her predator.

How utterly domestic, V observed to himself. Feeling greatly satisfied. This was how it should be. V had made the right choice, to shorten her leash. He turned a page, a long finger lightly skimming through the words and diagrams. V decided then and there; still riding the high that seemed to ignite whenever he had her so compliant; that he would keep his lamb at his side more often. Honestly it was something he should have done in the first place. If he had…

A murderous glower twisted his Bernini features. His mercurial mood shifting immediately. Again, just like with that corpulous dead detective, there was yet another who dared lay hands on his toy. He tsk’d, eyes lifting to narrow on the sleeping form curled up in his bed. Reminded again that he had to step in once more to rescue her from her foolishness. Such a troublesome plaything. He would have to do something about her penchant for nearly dying every time he let her out of his sight.

It just wouldn’t do, for ____ to die on him.

He settled himself in comfortably, letting his thoughts wander to paths to quench his burning need to exact a little revenge. A chilling smile crossed his lips as he flipped to another page, eyes greedily devouring the diagrams.

_’This would do just fine for punishment.’_

V carefully marked the page and set it aside. Leaning back into the armchair as he indulged in one of his more recent, favorite pastimes. ____ had finally fallen into a deep sleep, courtesy of a little nudge from his magic. His eyes raked over her covetously, thoughts of exacting his payment in blood and flesh from the unlucky Vatican hunter pushed to the back burner for now. Instead, he ruminated on finalizing his next set of plans for her. She was the perfect choice, honestly. In so many ways.

“You sweet little lamb. How utterly perfect you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot to chew over isn't it? 
> 
> Thank you as always for dropping by, I dearly appreciate it. Even if I am unable to respond, I still love each and every one of you. Your kind words and support mean a lot - Especially since writing is one of the few outlets I have for de-stressing, knowing that someone out there is enjoying my ramblings is quite nice. Take care and stay safe!
> 
> Until Next Time~


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